Everlasting Wishes
by Phoenix of Starlight
Summary: Grell Sutcliff is a young man struggling to be himself in a world that rejects him. Claude Faustus is a male whose life is fairly mellow, which pushes him to want something new. William T. Spears is a wealthy business man who could care less. When the ideals of these three males clash, who will be the one to suffer? Grelliam, Claude/Grell, Will/Ron, Eric/Alan, Seb/Ciel. Violence.
1. Grell's Crush: Unacceptable

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 1: Unacceptable.

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_~Grell Sutcliff~_

It was just like any other day.

Grell Sutcliff was twenty-two years old. His naturally red hair was long, reaching his waist. He had a slender, feminine figure which he rather admired, a figure which his smooth, flawless, pale skin stretched effortlessly over. He had supple muscle that didn't bulge, but he wasn't weak in any physical way. His facial features were gentle, womanly, and he himself wouldn't put it any other way. He loved the way he looked. He always had. There was only one flaw... and sadly, that flaw was the biggest it could've been.

He was _male_.

It was the most frustrating thing in the world to know that you were born the wrong gender. He once had two older sisters - how come _they_ were female and _he_ wasn't? Sometimes, Grell felt as though a higher entity had cursed him with the body of a man for something he did in a past life. Had he killed people? Had he stolen? While he wasn't hugely pious, it was a matter that he couldn't help but wonder about.

He looked feminine. He was attracted to males. He enjoyed dressing up in women's clothing, but liked how men's clothing looked on another male body.

Curse whatever made things this way. Curse fate... the _cruelest_ thing in the universe.

But lately, Grell hadn't been worried about that sort of thing, because he had bigger matters to attend to. He had lost another job, and he didn't have enough money as a cushion to live on it for very long. The rent for his apartment was the biggest frustration, because he hadn't even the slightest bit of control over how that went. His pet cat, a pretty white feline with blue eyes, was the only thing that served to calm him lately. Her name was Truth, because it was the only way Grell felt he would be able to remember his parents. The only two people in the world who ever told him to be true to himself and not pretend to be someone else just because other people would like him better. His dear mother, who said that it doesn't matter how Grell dresses, or what gender he likes, because that's just what sets him apart. His kind father, who pressed that if one wasn't original, then nothing would ever happen in the world. He told his red-haired son that he could be whomever he wanted to be, because he and Grell's mother would always love him.

_But they were gone now..._

Truth lay curled up in Grell's lap, a small purr coming from her as Grell brushed through her silky fur. "It's okay, Truth," Grell sighed as he scanned the papers. "I'll find something. We're going to get through this." His eyes paused at Spears's Spectacles. If only _they_ needed help. That was such a reknown company, that glasses crafting place...

Society was relentless with their abuse.

Too often did Grell go out on to the streets and get met by dirty looks wherever he went. Sometimes, he'd snap and start running, blinded by tears, back to his apartment. People shoved him, kicked him out of places, and he knew that his chances at getting a job were going to fade if his bad reputation swelled any further. He was a sweet young man, never meaning anyone harm, but for some reason, people were offended at the very sight of him. He hated that feeling of being rejected. It was heartless, how people turned him down with such ease and looked the other way if another human ever struck him. And that... that had happened a few times, as well.

Grell felt as though he were falling, faster than he could handle, to the point where he felt sick to his stomach. Spinning to the point of intense vertigo, writhing about in darkness as he reached for the light. Was the light even _there?_ What if he was just reaching for an illusion? It didn't matter, really. If the false comfort of an illusion would be enough to keep Grell going, then he'd grab it just for that. Anything - anything _at all_ - but to suffer through the pain of knowing that society was against his very existence.

Sometimes, they would give him this look... and Grell had long learned its meaning.

_'Why were you born?'_

That was the expression the redhead truly disdained. It told him that since the death of his parents, there was no one in town who could love him. The eyes immobilized his heart and frosted it over with ice - oh, how it burned so fiercely cold inside him and bit at his heartstrings. The crease of the eyebrows fenced him in, trapping his lungs so that he coudn't breath, making him suffer as he was strangled. Suffocated by that horrid expression. Then, worst of all, was the downward curve of the lips, the frown of contempt, similar to the blade of a sword. A sword so cold and unfeeling that it pierced Grell at his core - right through his very soul.

It was indescribably painful, and Grell wished with every essence of his mind and body that one day it would be brought to an end.

Life would bounce between forgiving and unfeeling at the drop of a pin, and it hadn't been easy to adapt to.

Meirin was one of his closest high school friends. She was kind, very humble, and Grell would always be the one to give her advice on fashion, romantics, and even help in her art class. He was the one who finally convinced her to take off her round, silly-looking glasses - yes, _Grell_ was the one to reveal just how pretty Meirin was beneath them. His assistance was most appreciated, but as her popularity in school soared, she began to forget about her dear friend, even if unintentionally. Students loved how she looked, how she acted, and her boyfriend, Grell knew, loved her very much. But one day, after graduation, she just stopped seeing the redhead. He'd struggle to reach her, through text, e-mail, even in person, but he could never manage to do so, for nearly four years.

And just two days ago, he'd seen this e-mail...

_'From: Meirin._

_'To: Grell._

_'I'm sorry it's been so long, Grell. Bardroy and I have gotten married, and things have just been really busy. But he's working during the day now, so I was wondering if we could go out for lunch tomorrow at Pluto's? Around 12:15 pm?'_

It wasn't that Grell didn't want to go. He loved that humble little cafe, and the owner was about as friendly as a human could be (as a matter of fact, a few times, Grell had actually wondered if the owner was part dog, he was so nice). There was nothing wrong with the time, either. He was... free a lot, _lately_. The problem was... he'd been fired from that very cafe just three days prior. The customers didn't appreciate his affectionate, flirty personality. The owner, who was nicknamed Pluto, didn't mind it at all, but since he was starting to lose business, he didn't have much choice...

And so, Grell decided not to respond to the message.

Truth stood, and leapt out of Grell's lap, before going to her water dish a small distance away, and Grell gave a small sigh, putting his legs up on the couch and lying down on it. He was emotionally exhausted after going out and running some errands, getting all of those snide remarks and sour faces as he moved through the public. He'd been dressed in his favorite red shirt, with the blood red rose on the front, and a pair of black pants, with red and black heels. He wouldn't have it any other way - not after what his parents had pounded into his head from birth:

_'Always be yourself.'_

Of course, it was hard. With everyone always looking at him like he was a mangy, flea-bitten mutt of a dog that had crawled out from the storm drain, he wanted to lie to the world and call himself a man. If that would get him respect, if that would make people look his way, if that would give him love, if that would give him a _job_ - who was he to refuse those perks? Nothing but a poor, lost child, clinging to the affectionate words of their parents. But there were things he couldn't hide, either. His long, red hair was something he treasured, and he just loved so much to wear makeup. Without it, he didn't feel _right_, and he would try to cover his face. And he loved wearing women's clothes, skirts, dresses, and the like. They were simply... more comfortable to him than other clothes. The heels helped him feel taller - because he was embarassingly short without them. With his heels, he was a somewhat satisfying 175 centimeters (5'9").

There were things like that that he just didn't want to let go of... and... what would he do if a woman fell for him?

It had happened before, and it had been one of the hardest experiences in Grell's book. He had accepted her - this _Hannah Annafellows_ woman - because his parents had been really excited for him, but he was reluctant from the get-go, and this girl was... well... not the nicest. She'd kind of beaten him around, so to speak, and been a bit insensitive. Eventually, Grell told her that he just couldn't do it, which had resulted in a pretty painful breakup on his side. He prayed his next relationship would be more emotion-based... much less abusive, and, if at all possible, with a _male_.

As of right now, Grell had two close friends.

Alan Humphries was a friendly youth, just turned twenty one a few months ago. He had short, brown hair with straight bangs swept over his face, and he wore thin glasses. He was kind and polite, often knowing just what to say - even though he did have a strong voice, and could certainly use it when someone got on his nerves. Emotionally, he was strong, but physically, he was a bit delicate; because of this, those close to him knew better than to be rough or at all not gentle. He was affectionate (although, not _nearly_ as much as Grell), if somewhat meloncholy at times.

Eric Slingby was a slightly older male, only months older than Grell, with about half of his hair dyed blond and swept to one side, the other half his natural brown and tied into cornrows. The glasses he wore were tinted blue. He was rough-edged with words, often rather verbally abusive, but cared for his friends and didn't hesitate to show that.

Alan and Eric had been Grell's friends for a while, but even they hadn't been in contact lately.

_They_ had jobs.

The young male sighed, walking into the kitchen. It wasn't like they were avoiding him, so he didn't take it personally. He knew that the few friends he had cared for him... even if they thought he was a little... _off_.

Truth circled his ankles as Grell got out some leftover chicken from the previous night. Giving a small smile, Grell fed his cat a piece of it.

Even if it meant getting accepted by society, he refused to change. Even if it meant getting respect, he wouldn't lie to himself or anyone else. Even if it cost him a job, he would be the flamboyant, feminine male that he was naturally. Even if his entire life crumbled because of it, he would be himself. No matter what it cost him... no matter what he could be gaining...

Never would he change, because he wanted to make his parents proud.

That night, Grell changed into a red nightgown, and lied down in bed. Truth leapt up beside him, and curled up in the crook of his neck, making the redhead smile faintly. At least someone appreciated his femininity. With that thought, the young male drifted off into sleep...

_'Grell... Grell, dear, wake up...'_

That voice... that beautiful voice... Grell knew immediately that the gentle voice was that of his mother. He opened his eyes and sat upright, giving a weak, bitter smile when he saw his parents before him. It was this dream again. He'd had it so many times that he could no longer pretend that it was reality. Besides... that would only make it more painful.

_'Oh, Grell, we've missed you,_' his father said. Grell always had to appreciate his father's red hair. How on earth did that man make himself look so masculine with it.

_'I've missed you both as well, mother, father,'_ the young man heard himself answer._ 'It's been too long.'_

_'Join us, Grell,'_ his mother said_. 'Come stay with us._' As always, Grell subconciously tried to move towards them, but he found himself unable to. He was fixed to the ground, unable to take a single step. _'What's the matter, darling, come to us!' _his mother cried, holding her arms open.

_'I'm sorry... I can't...,'_ Grell whispered_. 'It's not my time.'_

_'Grell...'_

_'Don't worry, dear,'_ Grell's father told his mother. _'He'll join us when he's ready. We need to wait for him... it's no good taking him before the time is right.'_

_'You're right, honey,'_ his mother sighed, sadness in her eyes_. 'We'll be waiting for you, Grell.'_

_'Don't go...,'_ Grell murmured, his voice weak.

Sometimes, he wondered if he _should_ go to them. He couldn't help but ponder what would happen if he did. Would he die in his sleep? Would he pass calmly and peacefully to the world where they were? Would he truly be reunited with his parents, or would he have a painful revelation that he was still alone? Some nights, he fought hard to join them, while others (such as this), he simply waited for the painful dream to come to an end.

Suddenly, a tickling sensation broke out over his cheeks, and he groaned, opening his emerald eyes to see his cat licking at his face. "Cut it out, Truth, he sighed, pushing her away gently. As he sat up, he realized just why the white feline had been lapping at his cheeks, and he sighed, before burying his face in his hands.

He'd woken up crying again.

**-End Chapter.**

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**Author's Notes:** Phoenix here~ Hello, everyone~ Welcome to Everlasting Wishes, a plot I've been working on since perhaps chapter 3 of CFDR! Crazy, huh? XD Well, this story will be broken into three arcs, and this first arc we shall be calling 'Grell's Crush.' Each arc is ten chapters long. Do the math. ;P

I didn't quite meet the goal of 3,500 words I had set for this chapter, unfortunately, but some reviews would certainly push me to meet the goal for the next chapter! ;D


	2. Grell's Crush: Lenses

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 2: Lenses.

* * *

_~William T. Spears~_

Spears's Spectacles was a neat, orderly workplace. An office building on the outside, a crisp, clean factory on the inside, it was a place to be respected. The head of the entire operation was a man known as William T. Spears.

He was tall, twenty seven years old, with a back that was always kept straight as a ruler. His black hair was often combed back, and his skin was pale, as he very rarely went outside. He was thin, healthy, probably because his mild diet and constant pacing kept him fit. He wore rounded, black, square-frame glasses that had been crafted by his former tutor, spectacle crafter Lawrence Anderson.

The walls and floors were spotless, and posted in various places around the building were reminders of the regulations.

_Ah, regulations._

Mr. Spears would never grow bored of that word and anything associated with it. There were precisely twenty strict guidelines for how the workplace should be kept and how workers within its borders should behave.

_Number one: No food, drink, or gum in the workplace._

If Mr. Spears wasn't so strict with this, the building couldn't possibly be as clean as it was. Not a single wad of gum (thank goodness) was ever found beneath desks or tables, no stains from drinks could ever be detected, and not a single crumb was ever inhaled by a vaccuum cleaner. Everything was perfect.

_Number two: No public displays of affection or unprofessional relationships in the workplace._

Being antisocial and a bit awkward, Mr. Spears had decided a while ago that he wouldn't have anyone... anyone... ugh, _hugging_, or any of that weird crap in his peripheral vision. Oh, no. None of that. Not only did it take away from time that was put into crafting spectacles, but it distracted other coworkers, too.

_Number three: No smoking in the building._

Mr. Spears was never very good around the presence of people who smoke, because it was dentrimental to health, and he, like many, wasn't very fond of the smell. It just... wasn't his cup of tea.

_Number four: No violence in the workplace._

This was clearly essential, as Mr. Spears was a fairly _'good-natured'_ male, and didn't think that things should be settled with physical violence, especially in a work environment. Not only did it stray from Mr. Spears's strong need for professionalism, but it would make other workers nervous for their safety, meaning a decline in production. And that simply would not do.

_Number five: All workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential._

Mr. Spears wasn't obsessive about having things be uniform... but he did prefer it. Most workers wore suits, and nearly all of them had glasses. That was how the big boss liked to keep it - orderly, just like the rest of his company. If people came to work with offensive or immoral themes on their clothes... well, Mr. Spears didn't have a problem with firing troublemakers.

_Number six: No drug use._

Medicines for sick workers were all right, but only after they'd been run by Mr. Spears. On no other conditions were workers to use drugs of any sort, and if they attempted, a severe punishment was in order.

_Number seven: No alcohol._

To Mr. Spears's chagrin, this was the rule being broken the most. One of his good employees was the main offender, to make things worse. Ronald Knox would get together some friends in his office, and before the boss even knew it, he would walk into a room and get blasted with confetti (or, worst case scenario, he'd be hit with a cork). But he absolutely would not take intoxicated workers. His standards were rather high.

_Number eight: Respect all higher-ups._

'Higher-ups' meaning anyone higher in position. In most cases, this translated to Lawrence Anderson, the head of the spectacle crafting, and Mr. Spears himself. 'Respect' was a theory that had been long advocated in Mr. Spears's youth, and as such, it had found its way into his business.

_Number nine: No use of profanity in the workplace._

Mr. Spears himself tried rather hard not to use foul language, and he was a bit disdainful of those who carelessly tossed around offensive words. Rather unfortunately, Mr. Knox was also guilty of breaking this rule a few times when he was suprised or startled. Those who were too uncaring or insensitive to others (meaning a decline in production), however, would usually get let go.

_Number ten: No selling of our product to people outside of stores unless Mr. Spears has given consent._

This was mostly just a precaution, because Mr. Spears was a touch paranoid. He wouldn't want people smuggling around glasses and treating them like some sort of illegal product.

_Number eleven: Clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day._

Spears's Spectacles had three amazing janitors, the purple-haired triplets named Thompson, Timber, and Cantebury. They were very skilled, but a little moody, which is why the boss made it a rule to clear away your desks before you went home. Besides, the last fool who left stuff on their desk ended up getting their wallet stolen. The thief had yet to be found.

_Number twelve: Wash hands after using the restroom._

This rule was pretty self-explanatory. After all, it was rumored that Mr. Spears was a bit of a germophobe, and their triplet janitors wouldn't be handling that job for the workers.

_Number thirteen: When handling spectacles, use utmost gentility and caution._

If one of their products should be broken by someone (such as Mr. Knox) being careless, what would they do?

_Number fourteen: Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet._

The next time Mr. Spears caught Mr. Knox on one of _those_ websites...

_Number fifteen: Never be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless._

This rule had been set in place when some poor fool (Mr. Knox) decided to poke fun at Timber. Thompson and Cantebury had made quick work of him.

_Number sixteen: No emotional breakdowns in the workplace. This is not a day care._

It was Mr. Spears's belief that emotion should be kept out of a job, but to his irritation, he found that he couldn't completely obliterate its existence in his building. And so, he just made sure that no one was ever crumpling down and sobbing about something to him. He both didn't know how to handle it, and didn't have the best tact.

_Number seventeen: If one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately._

Mr. Knox was annoyingly michievous. It took a lot to keep him in place.

_Number eighteen: No uncalled for parties in the building._

Mr. Knox was very persistant with throwing parties for no apparent reason, and that meant alchohol and profanity, and a very, very annoyed William T. Spears.

_Number nineteen: Do not bring foghorns into the workplace._

Mr. Knox had a few rules dedicated to him, after all...

_Number twenty: No suprise birthday parties._

(Mr. Knox.)

Curse that Ronald Knox for being a good worker. If it wasn't for that, he'd be long gone.

"Morning, boss!"

Speak of the devil.

Mr. Ronald Knox was young; Mr. Spears didn't think he was much older than twenty. His hair was naturally blond, but he had the back of it dyed black - a look that Mr. Spears could care less for. He wore round glasses that somehow made him look even younger, and fair skin that effortlessly framed his toned body. The boss couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Knox had quit a lifeguard job at the beach to come to his business, after all, that would explain a lot.

"Are you on patrol, boss?" Mr. Knox teased, giving the older male a playful nudge with his balled-up fist. Mr. Spears mentally noted to add _'No Unneccessary Physical Contact'_ to his list of rules. "Haha, can I tag along?"

"You have work to do, Mr. Knox," Mr. Spears growled, menace in his emerald eyes. The younger male laughed off the remark and shrugged his shoulders.

"All righty, boss. Work, work, work, just what I'd expect from ya," Mr. Knox laughed, before running off. Perhaps _'No_ _slang'_ would also be a nice addition.

"Excuse me, Mr. Spears?"

The ravenette turned again, and gave a tight smile when he saw the two workers before him now.

Alan Humphries, twenty-one, was kind and polite, never seeming to get on Mr. Spears's nerves. Along with his good friend Eric Slingby, he was one of Mr. Spears's best workers. Although... Mr. Slingby had his ways of annoying Mr. Spears, even when he was right next to Mr. Humphries. "Yes, Mr. Humphries?" the ravenette questioned.

"I... had a few questions about... _last night's_ prescriptions." Mr. Slingby suddenly started laughing, and a light red tint decorated Mr. Humphries's cheeks as he looked away for a moment. "Eric, come on, show some respect," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Mr. Spears. Shut _up_, Eric."

"What are your questions?" the boss pressed, not intrested in whatever inside joke they were sharing.

Mr. Humphries nodded, and began to share his questions with the ravenette, Mr. Slingby trying to suppress a few more chuckles as the two conversed.

Mr. Spears had soon taken care of the questions, and continued on his way out to lunch. Since food wasn't permitted in the building, people had to walk outside to eat. It was a strange sacrifice that Mr. Spears was glad to make. He sat down on a nice kept bench outside, and took out his pitifully small lunch, which consisted of an apple and a glass of water.

It was a wonder he hadn't yet fainted from hunger.

A flash of red caught his eye, and he glanced up, seeing a red-haired male in awe of the magnificent building behind him. He could sympathize, after all, Spears's Spectacles was a glasses-crafting company that would probably never be shown up. He grew a little uncomfortable as the other's eyes fell briefly on him, but the moment was brief and the redhead quickly left.

How strange.

As Mr. Spears finished up his miniscule lunch, he stood, and looked back to the entrance, where Mr. Knox and a couple of female workers were heading out for their own lunch break. The blond fashed his boss a smile and a wave, to which Mr. Spears simply nodded. Something about that sight bugged him. Mr. Knox always seemed to be surrounded by women, but for some reason, Mr. Spears had never caught wind of any rumors that might involve the younger's romantic life. That just seemed odd.

Ah... well, perhaps Mr. Knox wasn't into women.

There seemed to be a lot of that in the world... in _this_ town... _recently_.

Mr. Spears pursed his lips, as he was fairly neutral when it came to sexuality and romantics. He had been brought up to focus on school, work, and perfection in production. Absolutely nothing would get in the way of his job.

The ravenette paused as he heard voices from around a corner, three voices which he knew all too well.

"Hey, Thompson? Remember that Ronald guy?"

"Heck yeah, I do. What of him, Cantebury?"

"I was thinking that we should take revenge on 'im. Y'know, since he called us 'suck-ups?'"

"Mm. That would be great, but what if the boss man catches us? What do you think, Timber?"

"I don' really want to see old man Spears blow his stack again. I think we have too many violations on our hands already."

"Good point... We could always handle it after hours, though."

"There's an idea."

"Yeah, 'guess we could do that."

"We'll make him take that back for sure."

"Definitely."

Mr. Spears gritted his teeth, before turning into the hall where the three janitors were cleaning. "You three," he growled. "I would appreciate it if you didn't plot your revenge in my presence."

"Aww, what?" Timber protested. "Boss, were you _eavesdropping?"_

"_That's_ not nice," Cantebury remarked in a sarcastic voice.

"Revenge? What _revenge?"_ Thompson said.

"Listen," Mr. Spears sighed. "I appreciate your work very much, and I do my best to keep my workers in line, especially Mr. Knox. Please refrain from causing harm to them, and if you don't want me to scold you, you'd best keep your voices low." The triplets exchanged whispers, and Mr. Spears sighed, before continuing on his walk, a little bothered about being called _'old man Spears.'_

He would often go around and observe the different divisions of his company, making sure that everything was in order before he got back to his own work. The lenscrafting department, frames, taking prescriptions... It was a cautious, and very neccessary habit, as with a large building such as Spears's Spectacles, a lot could go wrong.

_Crash!_

Ah, the story of Mr. Spears's life. The boss walked a little further, and sighed when he saw that Finnian and Mr. Knox had run into each other. Brushing off the fact that Mr. Knox had eaten his lunch rather quickly, he strided over to the two, and swiftly cuffed both of them over the head. "How many times have I told you not to run in the buildings?!" he snapped, helping the both of them up and twitching in rage when he saw the papers scattered across the floor. "And pick up those documents! Honestly!"

"Jeez, boss, I'm sorry," the blond said, bending down to pick up papers. "You know, you never did make a rule against running." His shirt fell down slightly, showing his fair-skinned lower back and making Mr. Spears groan.

"And_ tuck in your shirt,"_ he growled, glancing away and trying to soothe the headache that emerged in his temple.

"That's not a rule, either, boss!" Mr. Knox protested.

_Lets see,_ Mr. Spears thought. _No unneccessary physical contact, no slang, no running in the workplace, and tuck in your shirt. Four new rules. Conrgatulations, Mr. Knox, you've broken your personal record._

"Um... actually, it was me who was running, I'm sorry," Finnian said, his face red with embarassment. "I... I wasn't thinking... I'm _so_ sorry, boss!"

"Ah," Mr. Spears sighed.

This was Finnian. He had slightly tanned skin, was almost always blushing, and he had hair that was a unique, yellow-orange color. On Mr. Spears's orders, he had his hair clipped back. He followed the dress code for the work place, and did his best to please his coworkers, even though he was a bit clumsy. Mr. Spears kind of thought that Finnian belonged in a garden somewhere, but he knew that if he voiced this, Finnian would probably break rule sixteen and start crying. The most unique thing about him was that Mr. Spears couldn't even begin to remember his last name.

"Look, I do not know what you two are doing in the halls with prescriptions, anyway," he sighed as Mr. Knox handed the documents back to Finnian. "Whatever happened to simply e-mailing them to the lenses department?"

"Alan says that there's a bug in the computers," Finnian answered in a small voice.

"You mean a virus?" Mr. Spears groaned, before glaring at Mr. Knox. The younger male blushed, and looked in another direction, his facial features giving away everything. "_Again_, Mr. Knox? I told you not to go to _those_ websites," the ravenette muttered.

"I-it wasn't one of those, I swear!" the blond replied. "I was... I was, uh... reading manga?"

Mr. Spears would have facepalmed if he didn't have his spectacles on. "Right. _Sure_," he said in a slightly sarcastic voice. "Mr. Knox, I shall have you in my office in precisely thirty minutes, or it will be a pay cut."

"Y-yeah, okay...," Mr. Knox answered, blushing. "Shucks, you never believe me..." The blond headed off to get a little work done before he visited his boss's office, and Mr. Spears continued to check on the various departments. He decided to take the prescriptions from a flustered Finnian, and brought them to the lenses department.

As he walked inside, the sound of frames being filed down was prominant. He gave a small, brief smile when he saw his former tutor and best employee, Lawrence Anderson. Mr. Anderson was the oldest in the company, in his early fifties. He was kind to those who he was used to, but he didn't at all encourage frivolity, and he had his ways of keeping people in line. His grayed hair was combed back, two portions in the front actually dyed a brighter shade, and a single lock swept to the left of his face. His facial features were sharp, thin eyebrows, and a musctache that somewhat resembled a blade. Only a few creases crossed his expression.

"_Timothy!"_ Mr. Anderson greeted. Mr. Spears tensed.

"Mr. Anderson, I implore you, please stop calling me by my middle name...," he sighed, glaring around the room to make sure no one had overheard the elder's embarassing remark.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spears," the elder chuckled, sitting back. "What brings you here?"

"There is a bug in the prescription department's computers," Mr. Spears explained, "so I have come to deliver these personally."

"Ah, in that case, Mr. Wallis is right over there," Mr. Anderson said, indicating to the young man who was sorting out papers a small distance away. Mr. Spears gave a small bow, and walked over to the young employee, placing a hand on his shoulder to interrupt his ceaseless sorting. The other male jumped slightly, before looking at the boss, and blushing.

"M-Mr. Spears!" he exclaimed. "What brings you here?"

Mr. Spears placed the prescriptions in Thomas Wallis's hands, and sighed, "I am sorry we are having you do all of this manually. I plan to give Mr. Knox a harsh scolding so that he stays away from websites that will bring about viruses." Mr. Wallis gave a small nod, and returned to his work.

Thomas Wallis was in his early twenties. He had light, yellow hair that he had to keep in a ponytail, and bright, sky-blue eyes. He was a promising boy, an aspiring novelist who was working at Spears's spectacles to support his writing. More often than not, he would come to work with dark circles under his eyes, as he worked long hours at the company, then went home to write deep into the night. His passion, respectable though it was, made Mr. Spears worry that he would have to soon let the kid go. His passion kept him from focusing, at times, and that simply spawned errors.

Mr. Spears continued through the building, and, finding all other departments to be in order, he headed back to his own office, where Mr. Knox was waiting for him. He quietly called the blond into his office, and told him to sit down.

"Now, Mr. Knox," Mr. Spears began. "I have told you time and time again not to go on inappropriate websites. I cannot even begin to understand how you can _possibly_ think that I will not catch you."

"It wasn't one of those, seriously!" Mr. Knox complained. "I was reading-"

"Mr. Knox," Mr. Spears interrupted, venom dripping in his voice. "If it is not work-related, it is not appropriate."

The blond hung his head in guilt, clenching his fists, before standing up and shouting, "You know what, _boss?_ How about you make 'no _fun'_ a rule? I think this company damn well deserves a little integrity!" Mr. Knox whirled around, and Mr. Spears tried to stop him, but the younger male had stormed out before he had a chance. Only minutes later, Mr. Humphries came in and told his boss that Mr. Knox had left early. He sighed, and sat back in his chair.

_Overtime again today._

**-End Chapter**

* * *

*phew* XD That took longer than I thought, but I hope it's good!

Do leave me a review; it would be mu~uch appreciated!


	3. Grell's Crush: Gradual

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 3: Gradual.

* * *

_~Claude Faustus~_

Claude Faustus had been fourteen years old.

His vision was horribly long-sighted, which meant that glasses were neccessary for him. He had dark, slightly-wavy hair that swept to one side of his face, and a pale complexion that only served to make him stand out. His eyes were a piercing yellow. His build wasn't too impressive; his body was thin and not very muscled.

School was both his best friend and worst nightmare.

It was the first day of high school, and everyone was simply learning their schedule. Claude looked at his own, a trace of frustraction crossing his features. His first class just had to be P.E. Why was that? Without a doubt, someone didn't like him. Second was Geometry. So he got to work out and brainlessly participate in sports, and then he had to get it together and think about formulas? _Lovely_.

Yes, for certain, someone did _not_ like him.

His teachers were nice, if strict, but Claude wouldn't have it any other way. He especially liked his cooking class teacher, Mr. Tanaka. That guy and his herbal tea were bound to be a pleasant class. But when lunch came around, the ravenette was completely lost. It was always like this in school. He would search through the lunch tables for a good amount of time, before giving up and sitting on the floor, against a wall. And that day was no different from the others.

Claude had his legs propped up, and had a drawing pad out. He was sketching a drawing of a crow that had taken perch on a tree in the middle of the school courtyard. Other children bypassed the tree and the crow without even barely noticing them, not even glancing at their silent, natural beauty. Claude, however, was not like them. He loved to watch nature. Sometimes, when he was drawing like this, he felt like a lone spider on a web, watching life from an invisible perch.

"Excuse me? Mind if I sit next to you?" came a male voice from beside him. The ravenette looked up to see another young male, with bright, white hair and fair skin. The boy grinned, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Ah... sure...," Claude murmured, and the white-haired male sat down beside him. The kid gave a small chuckle, and when Claude looked at him again, he was met by a cool, amethyst gaze.

"I'm Ash Landers," he said, holding out his hand. Claude reluctantly took the hand, and paused awkwardly as the other shook it.

"Claude Faustus," he replied in a quiet voice.

"Heh, nice to meet you, Claude," Ash answered with a smile. He glanced at the sketch pad in the other male's lap, and quirked a white eyebrow. "Wow, did you draw this? This is beautiful!"

"Uh... yeah," Claude said, letting the male place the drawing pad back in his lap.

"You know, I want to be a photographer," the white-haired male commented. Claude responded by looking the other way, and clearing his throat. Ash frowned for the first time since they'd met. "... Look, I know you aren't intrested in making friends. You've got the whole _'lone wolf'_ thing going on. Really, I'm just trying to find a guy to hang out with for a bit... because my little sister, Angela is a year younger than me. I can usually hang with her, but..."

"... No, it's not that I'm not intrested in making friends... I'm just not good at it," Claude muttered as he returned to drawing. Ash paused, then grinned again.

"I like you. Let's stick together, 'kay, Claude?" he suggested.

"... All right...," Claude sighed.

Ash Landers had been a good friend of him during his entire freshman year, but by time the next year came around, Claude had turned fifteen, and Angela moved to their school. As soon as she was around, Claude began to see Ash less and less, and on this day, Claude discovered something else entirely. Mr. Tanaka, his teacher in cooking class from last year, had retired from his job and decided to turn his own large home into an orphanage. Moreover, he wanted Claude to come and help out to earn community service and be on better terms with teachers that seemed to ignore him. Needless to say, Claude gladly accepted.

And so, on that day - Friday, September sixteenth, Claude walked to the orphanage with Mr. Tanaka for the first time. He didn't bother to tell his parents, simply because he knew _they_ wouldn't care. And Mr. Tanaka, being the mellow, tea-sipping elder he was, didn't judge the youth's decision.

That day was the day that changed Claude's life for the better.

"Mr. Tanaka? Who's... _that?"_ Claude asked in a quiet voice, pointing to a boy who was asleep on a couch not far from there. The young male had ink-black hair, and porcelain skin. His bangs fell into his face as he slept beneath the cover of a blanket. He looked to be no older than seven years old.

"Oh... That would be little Sebastian," Mr. Tanaka said. "He came to me only last week. The poor thing... I don't know how it's possible, but he says that he lives alone, that he's always lived alone, for as long as he can remember - although I can't imagine that being long. He's an incredible child - he can read short stories, do some math... and, call me crazy, but I think I've heard him quote some Shakespearian works."

_"Shakespeare?_ Woah...," Claude breathed, looking back at the child. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"You'd think so... but there's something different about this child," Mr. Tanaka said. "It's quite remarkable... but regardless, I think he could seriously use a friendly touch from another youth. Think you can handle him, Claude?

The high school student looked at Mr. Tanaka, and smiled, before walking over to the couch and kneeling beside it. "What's his last name?" he asked his elder.

"Hmm... I believe it was... Michaelis," the older replied. "Yes, that's right... Sebastian Michaelis." Claude observed the youth's sleeping face for a moment, before reaching out, and gently touching his shoulder. The eyelids slowly opened, revealing the stunning, blood-red gaze that made Claude's heart start to race. The young male sat up, rubbed at his eyes, and sighed.

"Who are you?" he murmured.

"My name is Claude. I'm going to be helping out here, so if you need anything, Sebastian, you just let me know," the older male said. A smirk crept over Sebastian's face in a v-shape, and Claude paused, perplexed.

_"Please_ don't sugarcoat your words," Sebastian said, his voice concealing just a trace of bitterness. "I'm seven. I can handle it. And I'm just happy that I found a place to stay."

There was a glint of knowing in that red gaze, and Claude felt somewhat humbled by it. It was as though this child knew more than the older teen, as if he'd experienced more, lived longer, and, even at half Claude's age, understood more. The feeling was unsettling, but Claude acknowledged it with a nod. "All right, Sebastian," he murmured, reaching out and gently touching the child's head. He stood back up, and nodded to Mr. Tanaka, who chuckled and gave a small shrug.

Claude began to come to the orphanage every day after school, always being soothed by the fragrance of herbal tea and Sebastian's calm demeanor. Suprisingly enough, it was only the three of them for a while, but one day, four months later...

_Knock knock knock!_

"Claude, would you get that?" Mr. Tanaka requested as he worked on dinner. Claude headed over to the door, and pulled it open, to see a young, blond child, holding a trembling hand with an envelope.

"This... this is for whoever runs this place," he whispered in a light, feminine voice.

Claude took the envelope, and opened it, before reading the letter,

_'Please take in young Alois Trancy. He is six years old, and I can take care of him no longer.'_

Claude felt a chill, stunned that a parent would be so blunt, but he knew that times were hard, and some couldn't afford to care for themselves - let alone their own children. He looked at the young boy, and gave a small nod. "Come inside, Alois."

The boy just stood there, shaking, and Claude called him again. This time, the young one looked up, with blue eyes that were filled with tears. "Did they give me away? Do they not love me anymore?"

The ravenette couldn't imagine the pain of being left in the care of someone other than one's own parents. He turned as Mr. Tanaka walked in, and he gave a worried nod down at Alois, who had started to sob brokenly. "Come inside, young one," Mr. Tanaka soothed, carefully picking up the child and holding him against his chest. Alois continued to cry, and finally, Sebastian came forward.

_"Hey,"_ he called, and Claude felt a rising dread in his chest as the sad Alois looked down at him. "Crying doesn't solve _anything_," Sebastian said. "The circumstances under which your parents had to give you up are probably way past your understanding. You just have to accept it and move on. There won't always be someone here to comfort you. Besides, if you turn to the chance of a new life, you might even like it."

"... Like it...?" Alois murmured, his blond eyebrows creasing in wonder. Mr. Tanaka stayed silent, and Claude chewed on his lip anxiously, before letting out a short breath as the child sighed, "You're right... it's okay. Mister, can you put me down?" Mr. Tanaka complied immediately, and Alois took in his new surroundings - the white walls and floors, the clean environment, and the older male who gently smiled at him from above. The blond sniffled, and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "What's your name?" he asked the ravenette who had calmed him. The slightly older boy grinned.

"My name is Sebastian Michaelis. It's a _pleasure_ to meet you, Alois," he said with a bow. Alois giggled, before looking back at Claude expectantly. The high school student gave an awkward grin, and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah... I'm Claude."

"And you can call me Mr. Tanaka," said the elder who had been observing. "Today must've been a long day, Alois. Do join us for dinner."

Sebastian, Alois, and Claude became good friends, regardless of their nearly ten-year age difference. Claude began to spend more time at the orphanage, often spending the night there (with his parents' consent, of course). The three grew and matured, and one day, when Claude was in his senior year...

"Claude, you earned your driver's license the other day, right?" Mr. Tanaka said. "Would you take Sebastian and Alois to school? It's such a hassle to go to the middle school and the elementary school, and I don't want to make them walk quite yet."

"Ah... I don't have a car...," Claude murmured, blushing lightly. "Sorry, sir... um... where are Sebastian and Alois, anyway? I haven't seen them all morning."

"Oh, come now," Mr. Tanaka chuckled, walking over to the senior and grabbing his arm. "Follow me, Claude."

"Uh... sure," the ravenette agreed, walking along with his elder. The two went out into the front of the orphanage, where Claude saw Alois and Sebastian standing next to a black van, Alois waving at him happily. "Mr. Tanaka, what's... this?" he murmured, his gold eyes widening in suprise.

"Happy eighteenth birthday, Claude," Mr. Tanaka said, a hand on the ravenette's shoulder. Claude gasped, and hugged the elder tightly, before running over to Sebastian and Alois.

"You two!" he said in a voice filled with happy suprise. "Were you in on it?"

"Heh, the whole time, ever since last _year_ when Mr. Tanaka first thought of it," Sebastian snickered. "Hurry up and get in so we can go to school - it's a seven minute drive and it's ten minutes until school starts."

"A- All right!" Claude said, barely hiding the glee in his voice. "Let's go!"

"Ho ho ho, have fun!" Mr. Tanaka laughed after them as they left. Claude took the keys from a smirking Sebastian, and slid into the driver's seat, before starting the car.

"This is awesome," he said eventually. He glanced at Alois as the blond headed into the passenger's seat, before looking over his shoulder at Sebastian. "Tell me when you're all ready."

"Ready!" Alois chirped.

"Ready...," Sebastian sighed as he heaved his backpack into the car and shut the door. Claude started up the car, and backed out, giving Mr. Tanaka one last wave before he started to make his way towards the school. "Hey, Claude?" Sebastian began after a while.

"Mm hm?"

"What are you going to do when you're done with high school? Are you going on to college?"

"College?" the older male sighed. "I don't know. Mr. Tanaka says that I don't have to go to college if I want to keep working here, and I really don't want to leave the orphanage... I mean, I need to see you two off to graduation!"

"Graduation? Heehee, Sebastian'll never make it out of high school!" Alois teased his friend. Sebastian's eyebrow twitched, and he gave a short sigh.

"Don't go there, Alois, I've got a much better GPA."

"What's _that?"_ the blond asked.

"I rest my case," Sebastian snickered.

* * *

School went well for both Claude and his young friends. While Claude didn't have many friends at school, he still moved through it, always knowing that he could come back to Mr. Tanaka and the orphanage.

However...

"Claude, this _'orphan'_ game has been going on long enough," said a gruff voice as Claude stepped into his house. "What, _exactly_, are you actually going to do with your life?"

The teenaged ravenette looked up at his father with narrowed, yellow eyes. "I'm going to keep working at the orphanage, father... when...," he swallowed, "when Mr. Tanaka... _passes on_... I'm taking over for him."

"What good comes of that? That place is probably already in debt," his father growled.

"Debt- no!" Claude protested. "In fact... Mr. Tanaka bought me a car!"

"... He what?"

"Yeah! He_ bought me a car, father_. I've been driving myself to school instead of walking - of course you and mother never notice I'm gone! You never notice when I - _freaking_ - pull into the driveway in a van! You don't notice when I don't come home, you don't notice when I _do_ come home, only to cry myself to sleep because you don't even take the care to say 'welcome home!; And now, you finally acknowledge what I've been doing for the past three - almost _four_ - years?! Well, I've had it! I'm leaving!"

**_Slam!_**

"Claude!"

* * *

Claude was angry.

He was angry with his father, with his mother, and with everyone else who told him what to do. He was angry with those who had left him - Ash, Angela, even his guidance counselor, Mr. Randall. He was angry at those who didn't defend him - who never defended him. All he saw was a bright red color as he drove through the streets, headed straight for the orphanage. He pulled into the parking lot, swung into a parking space, and as his car came to an abrupt stop, he hung his head, his breathing a little heavy, and his fingers clutching the wheel until his pale knuckles became a literal white. He quivered, biting his lip, and hoping that he wasn't found there, alone in the parking lot, with tears welling up in his yellow ears.

The door _'popped'_ open almost the moment he gave the thought, and he looked up to see Mr. Tanaka, an unusually meloncholy expression on his face. "Claude?" he murmured. "Are you all right?" Claude nodded, sniffling, and he sighed as his former teacher placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a soothing rub. "It's all right," the older male whispered. "I'm sorry, Claude, I need you to be strong right now. A woman is giving up her eleven-year-old son, and she is taking it worse than he is."

The ravenette took his glasses off for a moment to brush the wetness out of his eyes, before sliding out of the car and gazing up at Mr. Tanaka. "Where are they?" he asked. He and Mr. Tanaka began to head back towards the orphanage, the older male speaking in a hushed voice.

"They're just inside. Alois and Sebastian are introducing themselves to Ciel - that's the boy, Ciel - and their mother is a woman named Rachel Phantomhive," Mr. Tanaka whispered. "The boy almost seems emotionless about all of this, but Rachel is being indecisive about it all. She really doesn't want to give her son up, but she's going to have to. Her husband left her, and she can hardly support herself, now."

Claude looked down, reaching up and placing a hand on the elder's shoulder moments before he opened the door. "Mr. Tanaka?" he murmured. "I just have one question I need to ask before I help." His former teacher nodded, and Claude took a deep breath, looking up into the older male's eyes. "I can't go back home," he whispered. "So... can I stay here for the rest of my life?"

"Claude... you stay here as long as you please," Mr. Tanaka answered, admistrating a gentle squeeze to Claude's shoulder. The young male gave a thankful smile, and the two walked back into the orphanage. Rachel was impossible to miss - she was a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, crying softly into her hands. Her normally white skin was flushed at her face, trails of tears making their way down her face. Claude immediately swept in, and laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Miss Rachel?" he tried. She looked up, and he saw now the depth of sorrow in her oceanic-blue eyes. Claude could see quite easily that she did not want to give away her beloved son, and he wished he didn't have to be the one convincing her to do so. "I know it's hard," he said, before mentally kicking himself. Hell, what did _he _know? He didn't ever have a child - he didn't know what it felt like to give one up! He steeled himself, and thought about Sebastian and Alois, then thinking about what it would soon be like, when the two of them graduated. When they left.

_That_, he could relate to.

"I know it's hard," he repeated. "But in the case that you can't take care of yourself, let alone your son, it's the best thing you can do for both yourself and him. You have to move on, for the greater good. Your son will have friends here, and we promise to take good care of him." The ravenette then bowed, holding her hand in his, and said seriously, "Miss Rachel, I swear on my pride and honor as a man, that I will take care of not just Ciel, but all of the children here, for as long as I can. Do you trust me?"

Even in her current state, the blonde woman gave a small smile, and Sebastian and Alois, who had been listening from the background, clapped appreciatively of their friend. "Yes, I trust you, and I trust Mr. Tanaka, as well," the ambivalent woman murmured, giving the young male's hand a soft squeeze. "And... even though it's hard... you're right. I can't be indecisive about this... Ciel, are you certain it'll be okay?"

"You couldn't keep me anyway, and there are two guys my age," Ciel said, jabbing a thumb at Sebsatian and Alois. "Mom, I _promise_ you, I'll be fine. Besides, it's not like it'll be goodbye forever."

"Oh, Ciel," Rachel whispered. "... Remember me."

With that, she stood and bowed to Mr. Tanaka and Claude, before hurrying herself out of the place, and as she left, Ciel rolled his eyes. "That woman never stops worrying," he muttered, even though there was just a trace of sorrow in his eyes- no, _eye_, Claude realized, as the young male was wearing a black eyepatch. Claude at last got a good look at the young boy, and was a little impressed by what he saw. The teenager had short, blue hair, and fair skin. His eyes - er, _eye _was a deep blue, like Alois's, but much darker. Moreover, his build was scrawny, a bit like a girl's, and yet, he still had a commanding aura that seemed to have pinned Sebastian's eyebrows towards the top of his forehead. _Yes_, Claude noticed, _Sebastian is taking a real intrest in Ciel._

"So, Ciel," the senior said, getting an idea. "We don't have any empty rooms, so would you mind taking a room with Sebastian?" he asked, before adding as an afterthought, "Or Alois?"

"Oh, not _my_ room, Claude, it's a wreck!" Alois said, a small grin on his face. "Ciel should take _Sebastian's_ room!"

Ciel looked at the taller ravenette, a frown on his face. "You're freakishly tall for being my age," he said.

"Indeed, you are the unusually short one, being nearly half my size," Sebastian chuckled back, a soft look in his red eyes.

"Hmph. You being so tall, you could be my butler or something like that," Ciel said smugly. The other male gave a wide smirk, before kneeling, suprising just about everyone in the room.

"Yes, my Lord," he said calmly.

"... Well, if you keep _that_ up, I'll share a room with you," the shorter said. "Get my things, would you?" Sebastian stood, and gave another bow, picking up Ciel's bags and leading the way back to their room.

"Ho ho ho, they're going to be good friends," Mr. Tanaka said. "And Alois, you stick close to them, okay?"

"Hehe, of course!" Alois said, smiling like an angel. He then skipped away to play with his new friend, and Mr. Tanaka turned to Claude once more.

"What do you mean, you can't go back home?" he questioned, catching Claude off guard. After all, Mr. Tanaka almost never asked about his personal life, usually taking things with a cup of tea, so to speak.

"... My parents don't want me to work here," the student sighed, looking down. "I got a little worked up... I yelled at my father... I don't want to go back."

"... All right, son, but you can't run forever. You know that, right?" Mr. Tanaka said calmly. Claude nodded. "One day, you're going to get married. You're going to have a family. Don't you want your parents to be there when you have your wedding?"

The ravenette blushed. "... Wedding...," was all he could manage.

"Ho ho ho, it'll happen, Claude. Maybe not soon, but there's no need to rush. Ho, after all, you've _already_ got children, don't you, boy?"

"Heh... in a way...," Claude mumbled, a red tint on his cheeks.

There were few women working for the orphanage. There was Paula, and her younger sister, Elizabeth... those were the only two really there, and Claude had absolutely no attraction to either of them. Unless someone else came into the orphanage, he didn't hink he'd be getting married within the decade.

For the next few years, Claude's life was fairly mild, save for the excitement of graduation. However, the excitement was short-lived in the three following years before that day.

Mr. Tanaka was late to awaken. Claude had been in the kitchen, helping the women make breakfast. And, as always, Alois was dangling off of him, picking up on his cooking tips. Sebastian and Ciel were already eating (in fact, Ciel was eating, and Sebastian was feeding him, to the confusion of many).

And, after about fifteen minutes, everyone was served, and Mr. Tanaka still wasn't out of his room, which was when Claude determined that something wasn't right. He headed to the elder's room, and gave a polite knock on the door. "Mr. Tanaka?" he called, recieving no response to the knock. His anxiety rising, Claude tried again, to no avail. He eventually just opened the door, and ran over to the bed where the older male lied, seemingly asleep still. _"Mr. Tanaka,"_ Claude murmured, placing a hand on the other's cheek. He recoiled then, shocked by how cold the older male was.

_As cold as death itself._

"No...," Claude breathed, slumping on to his knees. "It's _got_ to be a nightmare."

"Claude? Mr. Tanaka?" came a small voice. Claude looked over at the door, to see Alois, and he scrambled to his feet, before ushering the sophomore outside.

"Alois, listen to me," he whispered, "you need to stay calm, and go get Paula. I... I've _never_... so I don't know... you need to help me, okay?"

"Claude, is Mr. Tanaka... dead...?" Alois whispered. The ravenette bit his lip, and hugged the blond close for a moment.

"Go get Paula," he rasped. Alois was off immediately, and Claude looked back into the room, at the man who had changed his life. "Rest in peace, father," he whispered.

From that day forth, Claude only referred to the late Mr. Tanaka as his father, as he had only then realized just how much the elder deserved it. Mr. Tanaka took him in, taught him, and even came to his graduation. Hell, he bought Claude a car while his own parents didn't even say 'happy birthday.' He wished he had been just a bit more open to his teacher and guardian... then, perhaps, that spike of guilt that had been driven into his heart... would be a lot less painful.

Even after Mr. Tanaka passed in his sleep, the orphanage survived... and thrived. Claude took charge and drove the high school students to and from school, while Paula handled the older elementary children, and Elizabeth helped with the youngest groups of children.

They managed to hire more people, as well - Drocell Keinz, for example. Drocell was a nice man, with orange hair and a sort of clown-ish look about him. He was great with the children (although he took some getting used to), and helped to even out work distribution a bit more.

Claude was twenty-four years old.

Sebastian, Alois, and Ciel were all seniors in high school now, which meant that they'd be leaving soon. Claude had sort of gotten moody - he was living a somewhat monotone life, with the process of wake up, take care of the children, go to sleep again. He needed something new. He craved excitement. He thirsted for a change, something to break the cycle he was stuck in.

Little did he know that it would _all_ be changing soon.

**-End Chapter.**

* * *

Grahh, finally. Haha, these chapters are so long. *-*

Please type something in that review box down there, and don't forget to post it!


	4. Grell's Crush: Saved from Tragedy

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush**

Chapter 4: Saved from Tragedy

* * *

_~Grell Sutcliff~_

Truth circled Grell's ankles as she begged for a portion of his breakfast - even though the redhead was still in the process of making it. Bacon was on the plate already, though, so he reluctantly snapped off a small piece and fed it to the feline. For some reason, things were particularly meloncholy today... he felt rather uncomfortable (that is, more so than normal). Something was pressing at him - a memory that wanted to not be forgotten, and Grell didn't think he'd be able to hold off from remembering from much longer.

It was a happy memory, because it was of a time where his family were there to support him, where he was enjoying a beautiful day with those who were closest to him, the day when it was proven to him that he would always have his family.

It was a sad memory, because Grell also knew that _'always'_ didn't exactly mean forever. It was merely the extent that such a memory could be remembered, before something darker clouded the hopeful light of it.

His sixteenth birthday - in which_ no one_ (not Meirin, not Hannah, and none of the cute senior boys) he invited came to his home to celebrate with him. Instead, he tried to throw himself a small party in his room, to himself, as he subconsciously tried to wallow in his lonliness.

"Grell, _what_ are you doing?" said the ever-flamboyant Angelina as she burst into his room.

She had red eyes and red hair that she had cut short, always wore red - everything about her was red, in reality. She was, just as everyone called her, the one and only Madam Red. And while Grell may have regrettably envied her position, he loved her dearly, and knew she felt the same way. Her full name was Angelina Durless Sutcliff.

"Well... none of my friends came over... so...," Grell said, looking away. His sister walked over him, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, before yanking him to his feet so she could look him in the eyes.

"So what, your supposed _friends'_ opinions are more _important_ than your family's?" she said in a dangerous voice, even though Grell knew she wasn't mad. "Put on your best dress and get downstairs this instant, Grell," Angelina continued, "and don't ever try to celebrate alone again."

"A-all right, back off," Grell protested, blushing slightly. "I'm coming, all right?"

"And wipe that sad look off of your face!" Angelina finalized, before leaving the room. Grell sat in stunned silence for a moment, before standing up, and pulling off his red t-shirt and beige pants, before going into the closet, and instead pulling out the long, red dress that his sisters had bought him when he auditioned for the part of Ophelia in the school's production of _Hamlet_. He put it on with ease, even tying the back on his own - he'd had so much practice. He then moved over to the dresser, and combed out his hair, making sure it was straight before he made his way to the door of his room, when he froze with his hand on the doorknob.

_Is it really okay?_ His older sisters were the most open to seeing him in a dress, but his parents hadn't actually seen him in one yet. Moreover, Angelina could have just been joking about _'put on your best dress,_' even though she knew how her younger sibling was.

_No, _Grell reminded himself._ Remember what they always say - to always be yourself. It's fine._

With that, he decisively turned the doorknob, and began to make his way downstairs. He came out into the living room, and was immediately greeted by his older sisters; Angelina, who was smiling brightly; and Rachel, who was standing beside her boyfriend.

Rachel was twenty-eight years old - blonde (like their mother), with blue eyes, and porcelain skin. She had a delicate build, which was amplified by Vincent Phantomhive, her tall, masculine mate that both Grell and Angelina approved of. He had dark hair with a slightly blue hue to it, and a toned body that was almost always covered by formal wear. His emerald eyes were soft, and kind as well. The redhead whose birthday it was couldn't help but be glad that he was finally revealing his true nature to this dark-haired, _handsome_ man.

"My, so Grell was _that_ kind of guy all along," Vincent chuckled. "I knew you were _different_, but _this_ was a bit-"

"Dear," Rachel cut in, a worried look on her face. "We accept Grell for who he is. Please, don't judge him."

"I cannot _believe_ you two!" Angelina cried. "Our precious little _sister_ is one whom we are forever grateful for. _She's_ sweet, kind, and beautiful, and today is _her_ sixteenth birthday, so please, would you cut it out?" The short-haired woman walked over to Grell, and took his hands in hers. "Come now, mother and father are waiting," she said. Grell gave a small nod, and followed his sister.

"Happy birthday, Grell," their mother greeted immediately. She paused for a moment, her emerald eyes trailing down Grell's form - and the dress wrapped around it, before she whispered, "You look beautiful."

"Really?" Grell breathed, breaking into a wide smile. "Thanks, mom!"

"Ah, son, is that the dress from the play?" his father said, a touch awkward, before grinning and rubbing the back of his head. "You look good, son."

"Heh! Thank you!" Grell said, running over and hugging his parents.

His mother had long, blonde hair that reached her waist, and his father had short, red hair and blue eyes. They were both very kind, always doing their best to understand their friends and family.

"All right, son, we've got a cake for ya right over here," his father chuckled, gesturing to the table, where there was a red velvet cake.

"Oh, _thank you_, father!" Grell cried, nuzzling into the older male's chest for a fleeting moment before he backed up and ran over to the table. "Oh, it's_ beautiful!_ Did you make it, mother, father?"

"Ah, Angelina and your mother made it," the older male said just as Grell's older sisters and Vincent walked into the room. "Sit down, now, son."

Grell obediently slid into a seat, and smiled even wider as Angelina sat down in a chair beside his. He reached forward, and took her hand, holding it in his own as he gazed into her fiery red eyes. "Thank you, Ann," he murmured.

"You're very welcome, sis," Angelina replied with a wink. "Now, make a wish."

"I don't need to," Grell said quietly. "Everything I could ever want is here with me now."

That was, of course, a lie. The moment Grell said it, he knew his red-haired sibling would know it wasn't true. Angelina knew him better than his parents, and overheard too often Grell sadly whispering,_ 'if only I had someone like Rachel does._' They shared a blossoming secret about Grell's increasing longing for a boyfriend - because at the time, Hannah Annafellows was being horribly mean to him, and he was already craving his escape from the tender wounds their rocky relationship brought about.

His suspicions were confirmed when Angelina gave his hand a small squeeze and a pained,_ 'I-wish-I-could-help-you'_ sort of look, before his parents joined him at the table. As everyone sat down, Grell reluctantly withdrew his hand, and sat upright, placing both hands in his lap now. His surrounding family sang a brief, sweet (if rather embarassing) round of 'Happy Birthday' to him, and a happy, blushing Grell blew out the candles with ease.

"Happy sixteenth, Grell!" Angelina was first to announce, clasping her hands together and smiling brightly. Grell couldn't help but take her hand again, comforted by the warmth of it.

If only it could last.

The chop of carrots as he fixed himself something for later reminded him painfully of how things began to turn sour. He turned seventeen, and Rachel left to get married to Vincent... however, only a couple months afterwards...

"Grell! We got a letter from Rachel!" Angelina said excitedly, waving the envelope about. They hadn't heard from her in the few months she'd been married to Mr. Phantomhive, so Grell snatched the envelope from her, and opened it as fast as he could, but as his gaze read over the words, his mood began to sink, forming a cold lump in his stomach - as though he'd swallowed a stone. "What does it say?" Angelina murmured, seeing the dark expression that had crossed her younger brother's face. Grell handed the note to her, and Angelina gave a strangled cross between a gasp and a sob as she read through it. "Why didn't she come to us?" she wondered out loud.

"Read the script at the bottom," Grell said through gritted teeth.

Her red eyes fell over the small scribble on the bottom of the paper, and she gasped again, this time with a trace of disgust. "No..."

Grell placed a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Let's not tell mother and father. The letter was addressed to us, and it would break their soft, old hearts if they found out about this."

_'Angelina and Grell,_

_'I felt as though you had the right to know - Vincent has left me. He left me a few months back, actually, and I have been unable to find employment. I had to give up my eleven year old son - I'm sorry. I was hiding the truth that I had him for much, much too long. Grell, I know you won't understand... but it was all to protect our parents from the horrible truth. Please forgive me._

_'-Rachel._

_'P.S. Don't worry about supporting me. I have found the only occupation I can take right now. I'm working as a pr...s...tute _(the scrawl was almost unreadable),_ I'll be just fine.'_

"How dare she. How _dare_ she!" Grell said angrily, walking over to a chair and kicking it over. "We would have protected her! We would have helped her! She had this son for _eleven_ years, and didn't tell us? Why... why wouldn't she... something _that_ huge!"

"Calm down, Grell!" Angelina said, running over and grabbing the enraged redhead's arm. Grell whirled around, and before he even knew what he was doing, hit her. She stumbled back, shocked, and the two glared each other down for a short moment, before simultaneously starting to tear up.

"Oh, Ann, I'm sorry," Grell whispered, looking down. "I... that was really uncalled for... I was just so mad... how could she _sell_ herself...? How could she_ give up_ her child...?"

"She knew you wouldn't understand," Angelina muttered bitterly, reaching up to touch her stinging cheek. The younger male came forward, and hugged his sister, burying his head in her shoulder. "We all do things that we'll regret... she needs to learn on her own - we can only do things for ourselves right now."

Grell gave a weak, angered laugh, and looked back at her._ "You say that as if you are planning on leaving soon, too."_

Angelina bit her lip, looking away from the obviously frustrated male. "Grell... I...," she began, before taking a deep breath. "I would never...," she said.

_She lied._

_She lied to me._

_I thought she loved me._

_We were supposed to stick together, Ann... when did that change?_

The next morning, Angelina was no where to be found. There was a note on Grell's night stand, bearing the words, _'I'm sorry, Grell,'_ and from that information alone, Grell knew she had gone. All that he had left were his parents.

Or so he'd thought.

As it turned out, that very night there was a shooting just outside the grocery store. The very grocery store in which his parents had gone to pick up some food for the week.

And they didn't come home.

_Chop... chop..._ It was amazing how repulsively close those carrots could sound to gunshots when he was remembering that night.

That night, he'd run. Blindly, through the streets, all the way into the next town. Because he didn't want to hear about his parents' death, he didn't want to think about Rachel's abandoned son, he didn't want to dwell on the fact that Angelina had left him and he was all alone. He abandoned that town for the one beside it, and found himself completely lost in the lonliness that followed.

How could he go on?

And to make things worse, he kept his phone, but no one ever called him. Not people wondering about the funeral for his parents, not his sisters, not _anyone_. Perhaps they thought he was dead, too.

Grell sat in an alley, his face tucked into his knees as he sobbed brokenly. Would _anyone_ ever love him? Would _anyone_ stay by his side? He was lost, and he didn't have even the slightest idea as to where he could turn next. He had run away, been trapped by the worst emotions he'd ever felt, and the mere thought of his family further twisted the knife in his heart.

Just when he thought he was going to give it all up, a dirty, gray cat slipped out from beneath a garbage can. Its left ear was nicked, and its fur was matted. In every sense, the feline reminded Grell of himself. "Hey, there," he said softly, holding out his hand. The cat flinched away at first, but seeing that the redhead wasn't advancing further, leaned in and sniffed at his hand. "There we are, sweetheart, I won't hurt you," Grell said in a quiet voice, smiling as the cat rubbed against him. He scratched gently behind the cut ear, and smiled as the cat began to purr. The stray crawled up into his lap, and the young male gave a weak chuckle as it lied down as if it belonged there. "Maybe I can keep you?" he whispered. "Just for a little while?"

"Mew...," the cat purred, nuzzling once more into his stomach.

"Such a cute little thing," Grell murmured as he stroked the dusty body. "I suppose I can't go around without giving you a name, though... Well... something to remember my parents just seems fitting, right? How do you like... Truth?"

"Mew," the cat said, seemingly happy.

"Hehe~ I'll take that as a yes," Grell said gently. "... You really are filthy, though. Haven't you ever had a decent grooming?" Grell emphasized his point by taking out a comb that he had kept in his breast pocket, and he began to brush through the matted fur, doing his best to be gentle. However, the knots in the fur were tough, and he didn't want to hurt the cat. "Mm... this will need a bath," he sighed. He coaxed the cat to come out of his lap, and stood up, before starting to leave the alley. He then paused, and looked back at the cat, who sat in place, a stressed expression on its face. "Well, come along, now," he encouraged. The stray bolted over to him, and rubbed against his ankles, purring with glee.

After Truth had given him life again, Grell had managed to find an apartment building that allowed animals, and that was where he lived now. The redhead placed the bag of chopped carrots into a paper bag lunch, and moved the finished eggs onto his plate, before sitting down on the table. He'd prepared the small lunch for when he went out job-hunting later, when the temperature started to rise again, but it was still seven in the morning, so he simply sat down and began to eat breakfast in the meantime.

It was only a few hours later that he headed out, putting on his old, worn-out red jacket and slipping into his heels. "Well, Truth, wish me luck," he called into the living room. He was met with silence, but he knew that his pet was fast asleep in her bed upstairs, so he simply left. He stepped carefully down those creaky, wooden steps, soon reaching the cement ground. He started out of the apartment complex and headed along the sidewalk, observing the various buildings around. He'd gotten fairly used to navigating around the town, and could, at the very least, find his way back home, as regardless of the fact that he'd lived around here for a few years, it still managed to catch him off guard on the occasion.

There was an orphanage at the west end of town, and from there to the east was a flower shop, Pluto's cafe, that huge spectacle crafting building was on another street parallel to the usual, and Grell's apartment building fell along the same route as the cafe and the flower shop. Today, however, Grell was feeling ambitious. He crossed from the usual street to the next, and observed the immediate change in surroundings. This place was much more business oriented. Cars crossed over the street as though they were racing, and people moved along the cement pathways, while office buildings seemed to decorate every corner.

Grell walked along the edge of the sidewalk, awed by all of the urban activities, when he stopped in front of a huge building. He looked up it, the porcelain-white walls and the shady, black windows, the glass doors and thick, metal framings, reading at the top, in huge, black letters, _"Spear's Spectacles."_

"So that's where it was all along," he breathed. He looked down, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw a man sitting in a white bench out front, taking out his lunch.

_That man... I know that man - I've seen him in the newspapers... isn't that Mr. Spears himself?_

The male was wearing a black suit and tie, with a white shirt. His raven-black hair was combed back, and his face was adorned with rounded, black-rimmed glasses.

_He's_ handsome, Grell thought, starting to blush as he looked at the male. Then, an action that almost gave him a heart attack, the ravenette looked up, and stunning, spring-green eyes locked into his own for a moment so fleeting that Grell could have missed it. Those eyes seemed to scan his soul with out of the world superiority, and Grell bit his lip, before turning on his heel and walking away. _He's not_ just _handsome!_ _That man is hot!_ Grell's mind screamed at him. _He's downright hot, and I want to meet him!_ His heart pounded in his chest, demanding that he go back, but Grell couldn't do it. He was embarassed to be caught staring, and, immature as it was, he wasn't going back.

However... he did feel a twinge of hope.

This man - this incredibly _handsome_ man - happened to be the boss of the profound company, Spears's Spectacles. It was the revelation of the century for Grell, who knew that at last, he had a chance.

_No._

_Not like this,_ said a tiny voice in his head. Grell saw a bench, and immediately sat down on it, before looking at the high-heeled shoes he was wearing. He blushed darkly, and felt his eyes watering.

_He'll hate me if he sees me like this. If he knows how feminine I am... I'll never get a job there. I need to cover it. I need to cover all of it up._

He stood up again, and started back home, still flustered.

Completely forgetting the message his parents had always given him:

_Always be yourself._

**-End Chapter**

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Dang, already done with this? I fail. XD

Please tell me what you think! :)


	5. Grell's Crush: The Interview

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush**

Chapter 5: The Interview

* * *

_~William T. Spears~_

**The Regulations**

_Number one: No food, drink, or gum in the workplace._

_Number two: No public displays of affection or unprofessional relationships in the workplace._

_Number three: No smoking in the building._

_Number four: No violence in the workplace._

_Number five: All workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential._

_Number six: No drug use._

_Number seven: No alcohol._

_Number eight: Respect all higher-ups._

_Number nine: No use of profanity in the workplace._

_Number ten: No selling of our product to people outside of stores unless Mr. Spears has given consent._

_Number eleven: Clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day._

_Number twelve: Wash hands after using the restroom._

_Number thirteen: When handling spectacles, use utmost gentility and caution._

_Number fourteen: Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet._

_Number fifteen: Never be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless._

_Number sixteen: No emotional breakdowns in the workplace. This is not a day care._

_Number seventeen: If one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately._

_Number eighteen: No uncalled for parties in the building._

_Number nineteen: Do not bring foghorns into the workplace._

_Number twenty: No suprise birthday parties._

_Number twenty-one: No unneccessary physical contact._

_Number twenty-two: No slang._

_Number twenty-three: No running in the workplace._

_Number twenty-four: As a follow-up to rule five, tuck in your shirt._

_Number twenty-five: No addressing Mr. Spears by his first or middle names._

_Number twenty-six: Do not tell lies regarding work, the workplace, or the workers._

* * *

On the very rare occasion, Mr. Spears would lose his perfect posture and slouch. This was a legendary occurence; however, it _did_ happen. Mr. Spears, after a day of long overtime and staying up late, and then having a horrid morning, would slouch.

Again, this was an extremely rare occurence, so there were those who would sneak around trying to get pictures of the elusive _"Spears's Slouch."_

Only adding to his sour mood.

"Mr. Knox," William hissed, glaring into a bush where he could see a crown of blond hair. "_Please_ refrain from trying to photograph my misery."

"Aw, man, I got caught," Mr. Knox groaned, standing up and brushing myself off. "And after I spent so much work getting into the bush in the first place!" He walked back to the building, and Mr. Spears sighed, leaning back into the bench. Suddenly, he saw a splash of red in his peripheral vision, and he quickly glanced up, to see the same man he'd spotted the previous day, and this time, he made sure to get a better look.

The male had long, red hair that he had tied up in a ponytail, and he was wearing a suit not different from the one that Mr. Spears had on now. His body was lean, slender, and curvy, not unlike a woman's, but he still had a somewhat unfitting air of masculinity. He had red glasses, with a chain that came around the back of his neck, and was wearing formal, black shoes that worked well with the rest of the company dress code.

For once in his life, Mr. Spears was impressed.

"Hello," the male said in a small voice. "My name is Grell Sutcliff - I'd like to apply for a job here."

"Is that so?" Mr. Spears said, before placing a hand on the space beside him. "Sit, Mr. Sutcliff. Let's have an informal interview here." The red-haired male blushed lightly, and sat down beside him. The main reason Mr. Spears was doing this was because he was a very busy man, and he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. "So then, Mr. Sutcliff. Do you have any experience with lenscrafting?"

"Um, no, sir," Mr. Sutcliff answered. "But I'm more than willing to learn. I'm good with people, too, so it you ever need someone like a secretary, or-"

"We have one," Mr. Spears cut in. "Thank you. Now, what were your past jobs?"

"Well... I worked in Pluto's cafe for a short while, but my first job was back in Blackbird Town, as an artist," the other recalled.

"Hm. How old are you, Mr. Sutcliff?"

"Twenty-two."

"I see," Mr. Spears said, silently noting their five-year age difference. "Then, Mr. Sutcliff, what are your reasons for wanting to work here?"

"... Reasons... for starters, I have glasses myself, so I know the importance of the work," Mr. Sutcliff said in a calm voice. "Second, I have always found this building to be _particularly_ impressive. I'd like to be a part of its operation." He then said in a hushed voice, "Not to mention, with all of the filthy occupations out there, your strict cleanliness is like a breath of _fresh air,_ Mr. Spears."

_Smooth, _Mr. Spears mused_. This one has done his research. Although, something pesters me..._

"Mr. Sutcliff, forgive me, this is a completely personal question," Mr. Spears said. "Did you possibly know anyone named Angelina Durless Sutcliff? Who was nicknamed Madam Red?"

The other male stared at Mr. Spears in shock, and for a moment, the ravenette wondered if he had offended the male, when he was given the suprising reply. "She was my older sister," Mr. Sutcliff said.

"Ah," Mr. Spears said, a look of suprise on his voice. "I did not know she had a sibling."

"How do you know her?" Mr. Sutcliff asked.

"She came through town with her husband," Mr. Spears sighed. "It was a very brief meeting - she was simply asking me for directions, but I heard a little gossip regarding her name. I apologize - it is not like me to ask personal questions such as that."

"No... it's fine," Mr. Sutcliff said, a somewhat frustrated look on his face. "I'm... fine..."

Mr. Spears leaned back in the bench once more, and nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sutcliff. I will remember your name and let you know when a position opens up."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Spears!" Mr. Sutcliff said happily. Before he knew it, there were arms around his shoulders. Mr. Spears sat stiffly in the embrace, feeling more awkward than he had since high school, before the redhead backed off.

"I better be on my way, then," Mr. Spears said, before standing. Mr. Sutcliff nodded, his cheeks tinted red, before he headed away, giving Mr. Spears one last wave. "That is one odd man," Mr. Spears considered. "Although, he does seem decent enough..." It was actually rather rare for someone to so openly ask him for a job, seeing as his own workers tended to spread news about how much fun the occupation was _not_.

It was strange, though. There was something unusual about that male. He seemed to be covering something. He seemed, in fact, to be acting the opposite of what he was on a regular basis. The thought made Mr. Spears a little irritated. He hated it when people tried to act one way, because it always fell through when they were actually hired. It had happened with Mr. Slingby, in fact. He'd put on the farce of being a polite, mild-mannered male, and then, out came the dragon inside him, with a fiery, lashing tongue that was quick to the curse.

_How distasteful._

Indeed, Mr. Spears strongly disliked it when things turned out in such a way, but then again, Mr. Slingby didn't exactly _hug_ him. Perhaps Mr. Sutcliff was simply masking affection.

That was wise of him.

Mr. Spears returned to the building, as he was finished with his lunch, and he made his way over to the lenscrafting department, seeking advice from his former tutor.

_"Timothy!"_

"Stop that," Mr. Spears said in a curt voice as he walked over to Mr. Anderson. "Sir, I have something to tell you about."

The lenscrafter set the frames he'd been working with on a desk, and turned to Mr. Spears. "What is it, Mr. Spears?" he questioned.

"I just interviewed a young male who wishes to take up work here."

"Interviewed?" the older male repeated, "I was under the impression that you did not have any interviews to do today."

"I did not - it was informal, he came to me during break, so I just decided to take care of his interview. He was kind, polite, and a little on the adoring side. I wouldn't mind hiring him, but I cannot help but wonder why he chose this place."

"Well, did you ask him about it?"

"I did," Mr. Spears replied. "Still... he didn't really answer the question. He just said he was 'intrested' in this place."

"Hm. What does that all-knowing instinct of yours say?" Mr. Anderson mused. The ravenette pressed his lips into a tight smile.

"That is precisely why I came to you, sir, my instinct is not telling me anything," he muttered.

"Ah. How odd," the older male considered. "Perhaps he's sincerely just intrested? Although, he could be 'just intrested' in _you_, boy."

The boss bristled at this statement. "Mr. Anderson, with all due respect, not everyone I hire is homosexual. Please try to be professional with your comments."

"I wasn't suggesting anything poor of the fellow, he seems promising. Besides, what matters if he is?"

"Mr. Anderson," Mr. Spears repeated, warning laced into his voice.

"Very well," the silverette sighed. "Well, you can't understand everyone's motives, Mr. Spears, that's just part of life. but please keep in mind, also, that not all people have evil intentions, just because they don't make legitimate reasons for something. Don't be too presumtuous, now, either."

"Hm. Well, then, sir, I will be on my way, seeing as you are not doing much to appease my frustration. I will see you later."

"See you, Timothy."

Mr. Spears turned on his heel, and glared at the other male, before saying in a sarcastic voice, "Good day to you, Larry."

"It's Lawrence-"

_"Precisely!"_ Mr. Spears snapped, before starting over to where Mr. Wallis was sorting files on the computer. "How is the work load at the moment?" he questioned.

"A bit heavy, sir. If you don't mind, could you please ask Finny and Ronald to send the documents grouped by information?"

"Did they forget to do that again?" Mr. Spears groaned. "I will tell them. Thank you, Mr. Wallis."

"O-of course, sir," the blond replied.

* * *

Mr. Spears settled down in his seat again, sighing as he slumped into the back. Today was really not his day. What with waking up on the wrong side of the bed, Mr. Knox taking pictures of his slump, and everyone else just more or less trying to make him mad... and then that odd redheaded fellow... Next thing, Finnian and Mr. Knox were forgetting to send their work right...

If things continued like this, it may as well start raining cats and dogs.

... Literally.

The boss sighed once more for emphasis, and returned to his work. But it wasn't long before he got yet another disturbance.

"Boss!" Mr. Knox said, bursting into the office. "Boss, Eric and Alan...!"

"What is it?" Mr. Spears answered in a passive tone.

"They broke your PDA rule!" Mr. Knox whisper-yelled, blushing. "You've got to come-"

_"Mr. Knox,_ Mr. Humphries and Mr. Slingby are two of my best workers," the ravenette muttered. "However, I commend you on your attempt to get the two of them fired, Mr. Knox - _please_ do keep the lying minimal, as I have added 'Do not tell lies regarding work, the workplace, or the workers' to the regulations."

"What?! Ugh, you _never_ believe me!" the younger protested. "What the hell, boss? It's as though you think that everything is always my fault!"

Mr. Spears adjusted his glasses, an apathetic expression on his face. "Well, Mr. Knox, while not _every_ single problem in my life is spawned from you, a great deal of it _is_. Now, please, leave my office before we once more have to come up with reasons as to why I still bother to keep you."

The blond looked like he wanted to protest - rather, he looked like he might explode if he didn't get the chance. An infuriated blush slowly spread across Mr. Knox's cheeks, he clenched his fists, and he was trembling in place with tension, his eyes even watering slightly. After what appeared to be an intense inner battle, he opened his mouth to complain, but Mr. Spears didn't give him the fighting chance.

"I have dismissed you, Mr. Knox. Get out of my sight," he said calmly.

The slightly parted lips closed once more, and Mr. Knox hung his head in defeat, before sombering out of the office, his shoulders still shaking with tension. Mr. Spears almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_.

But, in all truth, work came before play, or even caring for others. This had been so during his entire life - from his first tiny homework assignments, to the essays and theses in high school and college, to his first small jobs working under Mr. Lawrence Anderson as an apprentice. He never developed romantic relations with anyone, and hardly even had any friendships. In school, the people closest to him were the teachers, and he liked it that way. Teachers had little patience for troublemakers, and the few jokes they did tell actually made decent humor, other than those of his peers, which were mostly just bawdy remarks.

The only teacher who didn't simply adore him as a student was his former cooking teacher, Mr. Tanaka. Apparently, Mr. Spears wasn't 'relaxed' enough for that guy. The thought made Mr. Spears roll his eyes. Well, it was cooking class, after all.

A few hours later, Mr. Spears was able to leave and head home. It was a ten minute drive from Spears's Spectacles back to his own house, which was on the north side of town. Normally, a person would look for a diagonal route from the office building to the house, but Mr. Spears wasn't just any person. That is why he travelled west, west, west, before eventually turning north to head to his house. Merely another part of his rigid cycle.

The ravenette pulled into the driveway to his home, into the garage, and he sighed as he stepped out of his dark, gray car and walked inside. "I'm home," he announced to no one in particular.

"I'm home," came the typical response from the living room.

Mr. Spears - well, William, now that he was home, walked into the living room, and sat down in a black couch, observing the colorful parrot that hopped around in a cage not far. The red feathers sort of reminded him of his guest today. It was the only splash of color in his entire house, that bird. The walls and carpeting were white, the furnishings were black... and then, there was this beautiful, red bird, known locally as Shakespeare.

"Afternoon, Shakespeare," William sighed.

"'Noon, Will," the bird chirped back from its perch. "How 'as your day?"

"It was fine, how was yours?" William replied, holding his smile.

"How 'as yours?" the bird asked, cocking its head. The ravenette sighed.

"Are you hungry?" he questioned. The bird bobbed its head, before hopping over the cage doors and rattling them.

"Lemme out! Lemme out!"

_Ugh._

In fact, this bird wasn't his. It belonged to his neighbor, Mr. Keinz, but he had requested that William take care of the bird for a little while because his work at an orphanage had ramped up, and he'd need to spend a few nights there. That guy had taught his bird some pretty whimsical phrases, so it was always intresting to try having conversation with the thing, even though it usually ended in a bored or frustrated William.

_"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down, my fair lady!"_ the bird sang suddenly, making William look up, a chill running down his spine.

There was something really creepy about the way that bird sang London bridge.

**-End Chapter**

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I'd say this stuff writes itself, but really, it doesn't. Review to help power my writing, people~ This was shorter than I'd like~~~


	6. Grell's Crush: Fabrication

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush**

Chapter 6: Fabrication

* * *

_~Grell Sutcliff~_

Grell lied in bed, his eyelids heavy, as he stroked through Truth's white fur. His day had been so _thrilling_ - meeting such a man as William T. Spears and getting a potential job. Mr. Spears was so handsome, and seemed quite nice, contradicting _everything_ Grell had heard.

He'd been told that William was four feet tall, with a face like a goblin - pointed ears, hooked nose, long frown, knobby chin and all - and that he went around waggling his finger and scolding workers for every tiny thing. Of course, seeing his picture in the newspaper had brought about some suspicion, but the rumors did do a lot to hurt that image. In all honesty, he had nearly forgotten that picture in the news article purely because of all the talk.

Others said that Mr. Spears was in fact a _bewitching_ creature, with dark (some said graying) hair and faded yellow eyes. Other still said that his skin was like a bunch of pulled apart cotton balls, almost cobweb-like in appearance. Some said cobwebs hung from his head to his shoulders (boy, did they _love_ giving him cobwebs), some said that he had mucous green skin and antennae protruding from his head.

But one thing was in common - _every last person_ called Mr. Spears the meanest, most strict person they'd ever known.

Then again, Grell wasn't proud of himself for _ever_ listening to the talk, and he was glad to have met Mr. Spears in real life.

Something else still nagged at him, however. The fact was that if he were going to take this job, he wouldn't be able to be himself. He couldn't wear bright red clothes - let _alone_ dresses and skirts - and his high heels were out of the question. No bows or jewelry. None of that which revealed his inner femininity.

Grell's mouth curved into a frown - the same frown he had received from so many people.

_Boys aren't supposed to be like me, _he told himself._ That's something I'll just had to grow accustomed to. I can't be feminine. I can't be a woman - not any more. Not if I want this job._

**_Bzzzzt... bzzzzt..._**

Grell reached over and picked up his cell phone, before flipping it open.

_'From: Alan Humphries._  
_'To: Grell Sutcliff._

_'Hey, Grell. Want to go out to dinner? Eric's buying.'_

The redhead smiled, before texting,_ 'Sure, hun. Should I come over?'_

Within that minute, the reply came. _'We'll pick you up at yours, don't worry.'_

The redhead sighed, sliding out of bed and brushing the white cat hair off of his clothes. "Well, so much for rest," he chuckled, taking off his red coat - which had gotten the most fur, and instead putting on a dusty, rose colored jacket. "I suppose today isn't quite over yet~"

Grell moved along into the bathroom, and began to comb out his red hair for at least the forth time that day, humming to himself as he did so. He paused partway into it, however, once more looking crestfallen. "I'll have to keep all of this up in a ponytail, too," he muttered, a little on edge from the mere idea.

Suddenly, William T. Spears came to mind.

"I... I suppose it's kind of worth it," Grell said as he got out a particulary painful knot.

That sleek, supple body clad almost entirely in black, those narrow, green eyes that locked into his own like icicles made of the fresh, spring air... The raven-black hair that was combed so neatly, so crisply over his head... The unmarred, pale skin that framed him like a painting - no, better - like an empty canvas for Grell to paint upon.

His voice resounded like a cello, rich and smooth, sending subtle but persistant vibrations through the redhead, and showing him that even the quietest, most innocent of all silent hunters was still undeniably sensual.

Grell gave an involuntary shudder.

"Oh, yes, he is a _masterpiece_," Grell said, breaking into a wide smile. "A _gorgeous_ man, indeed! Why, if I could, I'd completely devour the poor fellow, he's just so_ hot!"_

The redhead stopped himself.

What was he saying?

* * *

"Hey, Grell," Alan greeted, before going to hold the car door open for the redhead. Grell giggled and slid into the car, looking excitedly at Eric, who was in the passenger's seat. "So, we're headed down to Pluto's. That cool with you?"

Grell paused, then said, "Uh, sure, but just a moment." He ran back into the house, and put on a red hat, before returning to the car. Alan was giving him a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry, Grell," the brunette assured. "It's just Pluto and a few new employees. No one will make fun of you - I _promise."_

"And if anyone does, I'll kick their ass for ya," Eric added, turning to grin at the redhead. Grell giggled softly, and nodded.

"Thank you, Eric darling," he said. "You're too kind."

"Heh, speaking of Eric," Alan said. "You would not believe him today. He would _not_ leave me alone! You'd think that I'd been gone for a few years, or something like that..."

"A-Alan, don't bring _that_ up!" Eric protested, starting to blush. Grell giggled over the matter.

"Don't you let your boss catch you," he scolded in a playful tone. "I'm sure _that_~ wouldn't go over well."

"Oh, no kidding!" the brunette laughed. "Dude, Ronald walked in on us - it was _so_ awkward! Eric started trying to come up with some goofy excuse like there was something on my face, but Ronald just ran off to tell the boss. But hear_ this!_ Boss didn't even _believe_ him!"

"Pff- dude, I can't believe how hilarious your work is- hahaha!" Grell laughed. "I've got to meet this 'Ronald' fellow sometime, you're always telling me about how often he's trying to get you two in trouble. Does he have a thing for your boss, or what?"

"Oh, _hell_ yeah he does," Eric snickered. "He's so keen on getting us in trouble because we know about his little crush - bwahaha!"

"Haha, but you know, you gotta love him," Alan said, shaking his head as he smiled. "Ronald really makes our day sometimes. I kind of feel sorry for him, the boss not ever believing him, you know."

"Hey, Grell, a word of wisdom," Eric said. "If you have a work relationship, don't make out when you're actually expecting someone to come in with files."

"Heehee, you even _knew_ he was coming? Sometimes I wonder if you two just enjoy flaunting what you have," Grell teased, but there was a hint of envy in his words.

"Aww, sorry, Grell," Alan said in an apologetic voice. "We know how lonely you get. Don't think anything of it, 'kay? We know you'll find someone."

Grell gave a bitter smile. "My sister used to tell me the same thing...," he whispered. "Before she left."

There was a moment of silence.

"Aw, _hell_, man, you _always_ get so down on us," Eric finally started up, looking back at the redhead through his blue-tinted glasses. "We mean it, dude, you're going to get a really good guy sometime. All right? So stop your damn whining and put on a happy face for dinner."

Grell gave a small, weak laugh, and nodded, even though the words did sting a little. "You got it, Eric darling. No worries - I'll cheer up."

"And don't you ever forget," Alan said as he pulled in to the parking lot to Pluto's cafe. "You've always got us, too."

"Mm hm," Grell hummed, looking up at the sign adorning the cafe. It was actually named,_ 'The Rolling Bones Cafe,_' but everyone called it Pluto's because the owner was just that memorable. Eric held the car door open for Grell, who happily slid out of it, and gave another look up at the cafe. The sleek, mahogany frames and pretty, marble floors were his favorite parts of the building - other than the owner himself, of course.

The three headed into the cafe, and were almost immediately greeted by the overly-friendly owner. He tackled Alan and Eric in a hug, leaning in to kiss them on the cheek, but the two stopped him from doing so. Grell smiled at the display, watching as they told Pluto that there were three in their party, which caused the soft, red gaze to fall on him.

"Grell!" Pluto cried, running forward and crushing the redhead in a hug. A kiss was planted on either of his cheeks before Grell could even begin to say no, and he gave a small smile as the owner looked at him with that undeniable puppy-like face of his.

Pluto had long, messy silver hair that ended just past his shoulders, and gentle, blood red eyes. He had fair skin, and a smile that said _'I love you'_ to nearly every person he ever met. He was wearing a suit, although he seemed to have had trouble with the tie. In every possible sense, he was adorable.

"Hello, Plu dear," the redhead sighed, placing a hand on the other male's head and giving a small stroke through his hair. "I'm sorry I haven't visited."

"It's okay - you're here now!" the silverette woofed. "And with friends!"

"Yeah... they offered to buy me dinner, so...," Grell said. "Anyway, how have you been?"

"Oh, delightful!" Pluto howled. "So many new customers lately! You know the orphanage down the street? They like my prices, so I've been seeing a lot of them lately."

"That's nice~," Grell murmured, smiling.

"Oh- I can get you three a table. Come along!" Pluto barked, before walking past the three and leading them to a table. He handed the three menus, and was away just like that, leaving the three alone.

There was a small pause, before Grell finally said, "Plu's so sweet."

"Heh, yeah...," Alan sighed. "Really sweet. Come on, let's check out the menu..."

No more than five minutes later, an Indian man came to the table. His skin was a darker tone, and he had soft, respendent eyes and long, silvery hair draped about his shoulders, an all over friendly look about him - one of the side-effects to working at Pluto's. "Hello, my name is Agni," he said gently. "I will be your waiter tonight. May I start you off with something to drink?"

"Just water for me," Grell said.

"Red wine for Alan and I," Eric answered on reflex.

"Um, yes, and for meals, what would you recommend?" Alan questioned. The Indian male smiled.

"Please allow me to let you in on a secret," he said in a hushed voice. "Right now, my childhood friend Souma is back there. Would you believe me if I said that he and I came up with a recipe for curry so delicious that it fills your entire body with warmth and kindness? You may be suprised at first by its appearance, but I guarantee, it will impress you greatly."

"So what's this miracle curry called?" Grell asked, cocking his head slightly.

"We like to call it curry bread," Agni replied, grinning.

"Curry bread, hm? Well, I commend you on your confidence," Eric said. "I'll give that a try."

"Same here," Alan agreed.

"Me, too~," Grell added. Agni gave a short bow.

"Thank you very much, sirs - and _miss_," he said with a nod and smile to Grell, before he collected the menus and bustled off.

"Ooh~ What a _flattering_ fellow," the redhead hummed, a smile smile playing on his lips as he rested his head on his hands.

"Heh, it would be just like Pluto to set him up to that," Eric snickered. Grell rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Eric, honey, I'm just that beautiful. Got it, hun?" he muttered. He barely caught the exchange between the two as Alan nudged his boyfriend to shut him up.

"Ah, right, right, sorry," Eric mumbled, a little indignant.

When their food came out, the three were surprised to find a fried bun - with curry on the inside of it. It was a cute little dish (perhaps minus the 'little'), and it tasted divine.

Grell would come back for that, and his friends strongly agreed.

* * *

Only when Grell returned home did the spontaneous realization hit him.

"I have a crush on him."

It had clicked so randomly and quickly that Grell was temporarily stunned by it. He was crushing on William T. Spears. That was it. The obsessing over how great Mr. Spears looked...

_It was love._

The way the other male's voice melted him...

_It was lust._

How much he wanted this job - more than any other in the world...

_It was infatuation._

Grell sat down on the bed, and reached up, rubbing his forehead sorely. He couldn't believe himself! Meet a man one day, love him that night, was that really who he was? Was he so desperate as to call love on anything even mildly attractive? Was he that much of a... a...

_No._

He wasn't going to use _that_ word again. He had promised himself that he wouldn't beat himself up with words anymore - it just wasn't healthy!

Instead, Grell bit his lip, and considered things. Well, Mr. Spears didn't exactly push him back when he hugged him. Could that be a sign? Did he have a chance with this one? Any chance _at all?_

After a rather stressful inner battle, Grell decided that he would let things play out. He would hide his femininity to get himself the love he always dreamed of having. He would cover it so that he could see William T. Spears more often. And even in that state, he would still be the attractive, amazing, gorgeous _Sir Red_ that he always had been. Without doubt, he was going to make this perfect.

He was going to be a charming young male that would make Mr. Spears swoon with his romantic charm. Or perhaps he'd be the suave, sexy male who played with others, but secretly had eyes for Spears alone... By chance, he could even be a cute, trembling male who merely acted tough and brought out Mr. Spears's fatherly nature...

Smiling, the redhead closed his eyes and drifted off into the world of dreams.

_"... Grell."_

The redhead looked up, his eyes filled with tears. "Mother... I've told you a thousand times now. I can't. I just can't."

_"Son, we love you," _said his father._ "Always remember that. And always be yourself."_

"I am... I am!" Grell said, clenching his teeth. "I would never disobey your wishes, mother, father, I've _always_ upheld them!"

"_We know... but you're starting not to... You're masking it... son, why?" _his father asked_. "Your mother is heartbroken, Grell. Do you really want to hurt her?"_

_"Quiet!"_ Grell cried, a tear breaking over his eyelid and tracking down his cheek. As it fell from his chin, the bright green grass was touched by a droplet of blood. The redhead noticed this, and he wiped at his eyes, then gasped when he saw that the tears were a deep crimson. "No... what is this...?!"

_"We love you, Grell..."_

Grell sat up, gasping for breath, his hands covering his face. When he discovered that he was, in fact, not crying blood, he sighed with relief, and lied back down. Finally, a change in his dreaming patterns. But... somehow, it wasn't a happy change. No, in fact, it made Grell rather uncomfortable. He had gone to bed confident and happy, but that nightmare had changed it all. He didn't feel proud of his decision at all.

Once more, the sinful image of Mr. Spears came to his mind, and he bit his lip.

_Was he worth it?_

After just a little more thinking, Grell sighed.

Yes. Yes he was.

He _had_ to be worth it.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

There we have it! Ta-da! XD

Now, please review!


	7. Grell's Crush: Unprofessional

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 7: Unprofessional.

* * *

_~William T. Spears~_

**The Regulations**

_Number one: No food, drink, or gum in the workplace._

_Number two: No public displays of affection or unprofessional relationships in the workplace._

_Number three: No smoking in the building._

_Number four: No violence in the workplace._

_Number five: All workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential._

_Number six: No drug use._

_Number seven: No alcohol._

_Number eight: Respect all higher-ups._

_Number nine: No use of profanity in the workplace._

_Number ten: No selling of our product to people outside of stores unless Mr. Spears has given consent._

_Number eleven: Clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day._

_Number twelve: Wash hands after using the restroom._

_Number thirteen: When handling spectacles, use utmost gentility and caution._

_Number fourteen: Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet._

_Number fifteen: Never be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless._

_Number sixteen: No emotional breakdowns in the workplace. This is not a day care._

_Number seventeen: If one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately._

_Number eighteen: No uncalled for parties in the building._

_Number nineteen: Do not bring foghorns into the workplace._

_Number twenty: No suprise birthday parties._

_Number twenty-one: No unneccessary physical contact._

_Number twenty-two: No slang._

_Number twenty-three: No running in the workplace._

_Number twenty-four: As a follow-up to rule five, tuck in your shirt._

_Number twenty-five: No addressing Mr. Spears by his first or middle names._

_Number twenty-six: Do not tell lies regarding work, the workplace, or the workers._

_Number twenty-seven: Under no circumstances should male workers dress in a feminine way. Rule five applies to all sexualities._

_Number twenty-eight: No parrots or mentioning of parrots or their wellbeing in the workplace. (Mr. Spears got enough of that at home.)_

_Number twenty-nine: Mr. Spears is single. This does not mean he will date his workers. Keep whatever affections you may have to yourself._

_Number thirty: No vibrant, neon colors. (Mr. Spears was blind enough as it was.)_

_Number thirty-one: Even if you're miserable, pretend to be happy so that other workers won't feel uncomfortable. Sad workers make bad product._

* * *

_Six days later..._

William sighed, slowly sitting upright, and tiredly rubbing at his eyes with one hand as he used the other to snatch the glasses off of the nightstand. He perched them on the bridge of his nose, and sighed as the world around him became clear once again. It was the beginning of a fresh, new day.

He glanced at his clock, and sighed to see that it was five in the morning. He'd overslept slightly. The ravenette slid out of bed, and headed into the bathroom, sighing as he saw his hair in an impressive bedhead that made it look as though it had never been combed back. What a laughable appearance. As he began to undress to get in the shower, he thought of his workers... and their _recent_ behavior.

Eric and Alan had been rather happy lately, while Ronald's mood was on a steady decline. Perhaps he would have a talk with him about improving his attitude - after all, his moodiness had led to the addition of Rule Thirty-One. Thomas Wallis had been absent for the past five days, too, but his sickness was starting to make William a little frustrated. Even so... it was about time all of that missed sleep caught up with the boy. He better be taking it easy.

William placed his glasses on the sink, turned on the shower, and stepped in, sighing softly as he let the cool water run over him. _Damn_, his work was stressful. Sometimes, he felt as though he ought to go see a doctor and ask why he wasn't bald - or at _least_ going gray like his tutor - yet. Reaching up to massage a sore shoulder, his thoughts once more wandered to the red-haired male who had approached him last week.

What a _truly_ odd creature.

Rinsing shampoo from his hair, the ravenette wondered how the work load would be today... Things had been picking up lately, so a heavy work load was probably safe to expect. He'd have to be fast to the building so that he didn't get overtime again.

Only minutes later, William had gotten himself dressed for work, aside from the towel over his shoulders. He headed into his living room, and bade the parrot within it a sigh.

"Morning," squawked the bird.

"Good morning, Shakespeare," William sighed.

"Morning, Will!" it chirped once more.

"Are you hungry?" the ravenette tried.

"Famished, Will, hurry or I call Docee."

_'Docee.'_ The nickname made William's lips quirk up the tiniest bit. While his neighbor's name was 'Drocell,' the bird either had trouble with it or had been taught otherwise. It kind of tempted the ravenette to use the nickname himself, if he was any less mature. But it registered what the bird had told him, and he started for the birdseed, when there was a knock at his door.

"I will be right back," he sighed. He walked over to the door, and opened it, and immediately, a blur of orange burst into the room and over to the bird.

_"Ti ha trattato bene?"_ Drocell asked his bird in Italian, a concerned look on his face.

_"Sì_,_ Docee, molto buono!"_ the bird squawked back, and Drocell smiled.

"Good," he sighed. He looked back at William, and bowed. "Sorry, William, I was just checking in on him. I had thought, what if you were too busy to treat him properly? But, I see now, he's fine. Thank you very much."

William nodded. "No problem, Mr. Keinz," he said.

His neighbor was one with truly a clownish appearance. His skin was a soft porcelain, and his orange hair fell around his face in a symmetrical frame. He often wore a black top hat with a red ribbon and black feathers, and his clothes often stayed with the colors navy blue, gold, black, and red. His amethyst eyes were adorned with purple makeup on the upper lid, and black on the lower lid, and the navy blue marking on his right cheek was one which could, perhaps, be found on the Italian Flor family crest.

"Um, I just came to check in," Drocell said, just a hint of shyness in his voice. "Thank you again for taking care of Shakespeare, William, it means a lot to me - I know you're a very busy man... I had thought, in a few days... uh, Friday, to be exact, I'll sweep by after work to take him back, 'cause Mr. Faustus says I can start keeping him at the orphanage."

"Very well," William said. "I need to rush off to work soon, would you mind feeding him?"

Drocell's amethyst eyes lit right up. "Certainly, I thought," he said, before glancing to the parrot. _"Hai fame?"_

_"Molto fame, Docee!"_ Shakespeare chirrupped. William sighed, walking over to the kitchen, and taking an apple out of the refrigerator. He cut it up for lunch, silently musing the antics of the bilingual parrot and its owner.

It wasn't long before Drocell left, and William was able to go to work.

Mr. Spears drove south, then east, along the urban road, and soon pulling into the parking lot for his prominent building. As he headed into the building he brushed back his hair one final time before starting towards his office.

"Morning, sir," Mr. Wallis said.

"Good morning," Mr. Spears greeted the aspiring novelist, before pausing. "Mr. Wallis, I was not expecting you in today, had you not been sick?"

"Um, I was, sir, and I still have a bit of a cough," the younger male admitted. "Mr. Anderson called me in due to the expected heavy work load today."

"I see," Mr. Spears said with a thoughtful nod. "Thank you, Mr. Wallis."

"A-anytime, sir!" the blond said, smiling widely.

Mr. Spears continued on his way, pleased that everyone seemed to be present today. With so many workers, perhaps they had a fighting chance at getting back at that work load. But just when he was starting to get his spirits up, he entered his office to see a large stack of work on his desk. "That figures," he muttered, heading over to his chair and sitting down. "I will have to delegate some of this to someone else."

Just then, the door opened.

And there stood _him_, with wide, innocent eyes blinking in confusion at the eyes of the hawk who glared at him. The rabbit cowered slightly under the stare, but stood, paralyzed, when Mr. Spears stood, and stalked towards him, a hungry look in his eyes. The ravenette circled his prey, saying in a quiet, deceiving voice, "Mr. Knox. Just the man I wanted to see. You are right in time..."

"B-boss...?" the blond stuttered, before gasping as Mr. Spears placed a chillingly cold hand on his shoulder. _"William?"_

"Do _not_ address me by my first name," the ravenette muttered, a sickly sweet venom dripping from his voice. "Mr. Knox... I have a job for you."

Ronald gulped.

* * *

_Oh_, how nice it was to see that stack at half its original size. That was one of the only reasons he kept Ronald Knox around; all of his screwups and etc. mistakes made it easy to pass off work to him - after all, the poor guy would get all eaten up with guilt after every time he made even the slightest error.

Sometimes, even the honest, strict, business-orientated Mr. Spears enjoyed toying with people.

Just then, Mr. Anderson entered the room, a new stack of papers being cradled in his arms. "Good morning, Mr. Spears," he greeted, before setting the papers on Mr. Spears's desk. "Unusually busy today."

"Mr. Wallis had been absent for a while," the ravenette sighed. "I think it might have snowballed into this. Anyway, today should not be too bad. Everyone seems to be present, thanks to you, Mr. Anderson."

"Really? _Everyone?"_ the silverette mused. "That explains why it's so crowded in the crafting department... Huh. Well, later, boss."

Mr. Anderson left at that, and Mr. Spears sighed as he took note of the new work. _This will have to be delegated, too,_ he silently noted. He stood, and made his way down towards the prescriptions department, and headed in. Mr. Knox was working furiously on his large stack of papers, and Mr. Spears cringed at the sight.

He'd be _cruel_ to pass more to the poor guy.

_Mr. Humphries and Mr. Slingby should take this on,_ he considered._ They will definitely understand_. He made his way to their office, faintly aware of Mr. Knox's eyes boring eagerly into his back as he placed a hand on the knob, and turned it. But as he opened the door, he froze completely, his mouth hanging open in pure, undiluted horror.

Because there at the desk was a pair of coupled bodies, their lips touching in an intimate manner as they held their arms around each other's waists. Mr. Humphries, who was practically sitting on the desk, gave a quiet moan as Mr. Slingby ran his hands over his back, the both of them in the act of _making out_ - something which _repulsed_ the boss, who could never wrap his mind around the concept of love.

_"Humphries! Slingby!"_ he snapped, his emerald eyes sharp as he tried to glare the two to death. Startled, the two leapt back and strugged to righten themselves, both of their faces almost glowing red with humiliation.

"B-boss, I can explain...," Mr. Humphries tried, but Mr. Spears cut in.

"No explanation is needed. It is clearly stated in the rules that public displays of affection are _strongly_ prohibited in the work environment," Mr. Spears snapped. "This is completely_ unacceptable!"_

"Hey, man, take it easy," Mr. Slingby protested. "It was my fault, don't get all mad at _Alan_-"

"_Both_ of you are at fault," Mr. Spears hissed. "No, I am _disgusted_ at you two. And to think, you had the gall to think that me not trusting Mr. Knox would be enough to let you off?! Well, it's not! I will see you two out of my business, _immediately!"_

"But...," Mr. Humphries started, but he clearly struggled with coming up with anything that sounded good. Defeated, the brunette hung his head, and reluctantly allowed Mr. Spears to lead him out of the office. The boss spared Mr. Knox a brief glance, and a nod to apologize for not believing him sooner, to which the blond gave a shaky nod back.

"Wait... are we being _fired?_ On such a heavy day?" Mr. Slingby complained.

Mr. Spears remained silent, and gave a short sigh when he saw Mr. Humphries nod sadly to his lover.

_Definitely unacceptable._

"You may come and get your things on your own time," Mr. Spears muttered sourly as he made the final, decisive move of pushing the two outside of his building, "but I wish not to see hide nor hair of you when you do so."

The two were left outside, still stunned, and Mr. Spears headed back upstairs, the stack of papers still in his arms, before walking into Mr. Knox's office.

_Plop!_

And he left the office, an astonished Mr. Knox in his wake. (He would have passed the work to Finnian, but giving _him_ extra work was like making a bet with a death god.)

As Mr. Spears sat back down in his seat, his mind strayed once again to the red-haired male who he had interviewed. A couple days back, he had gotten the other's phone number, and it seemed as though he would be calling the probably-secretly-affectionate male today if things kept getting worse (as they were bound to after he had fired two people.

"Mr. Spears?" came a cheeky voice as one of the three janitors peeked into the room. "Everywhere that needs cleaning is occupied by people. Thompson, Timber and I were wondering if we could maybe help out with anything? For a little _extra_ pay, perhaps?"

"Yes, that would be fine," Mr. Spears said. "If you could run papers back between the main departments - that is, eye tests, crafting and prescriptions - that would be a huge help."

"Sure thing, boss man," Cantebury agreed, before leaving the office.

A few hours later, however, the work load became unbearable, even with the triplets running papers back and forth between the departments. William eventually decided that it was time to call in that redheaded fellow that he had met last week. He took out his cell phone, and dialed Grell's number, before holding the old, flip phone against his ear.

("Hello~?")

"Mr. Sutcliff? This is William T. Spears," the boss answered. "I would like you to come in for work today - we have found ourselves suddenly shorthanded."

("_Work?_ You mean... at _Spears's Spectacles?"_ came the disbelieving reply.)

"Yes. Is that all right?" the ravenette questioned.

("Oh, _yes, sir!"_)

"Very good. I will see you soon."

("Sure! Thank you!")

Mr. Spears closed the phone, and stood, before starting to make his way back to the entrance of the building. On his way, he called for Mr. Knox, and the blond obediently trailed after him like a loyal, stray dog as they headed down a short flight of stairs.

The two waited outside, Mr. Knox with a comically awkward expression on his face as he looked up at the boss. "Um... what are we doing?" he asked.

"Waiting for a new recruit," Mr. Spears answered in a curt tone. The blond continued to stand there, shuffling slightly, until a red car swept into the parking lot, and the red-haired male Mr. Spears had been expecting stepped out. He was glad to see that Mr. Sutcliff seemed to have abided by the dress code from the very beginning.

"Hello~," he greeted, his cheeks dusted pink as he approached the two. "I'm so glad you need me, Mr. Spears, but what can I do?"

"Well, you may work here starting today, but, of course, we need to have you trained," Mr. Spears said. "This is Mr. Knox. He will be teaching you the rules, and how to work in the prescription department."

"Oh, a _thousand_ 'thank you's, Mr. Spears!" Mr. Sutcliff cried, clasping his hands together as he batted his eyes at the other male. However, something stopped him short, and he stood back up, before saying. "Er, I'll do my best, sir."

"Indeed. The work load is heavy today, but because of the situation, I will let you - _both_ of you - off easy today," Mr. Spears said. "Mr. Knox, please explain the regulations to Mr. Sutcliff, and I will see you in my office at five o'clock - that's nearly three hours from now."

"Yes, sir," Mr. Knox responded, before glancing back at Mr. Sutcliff. "Come on, I'll teach you the ropes."

The two headed on towards the prescription department, and Mr. Spears returned to his desk, knowing all too well that some things were going to have to be delayed today.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

*phew* There we are~ Almost done with Arc 1! :D

Please Review!


	8. Grell's Crush: Reflection

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 8: Reflection.

* * *

_~Grell Sutcliff~_

"Number one, no food, drink, or gum in the workplace," Grell sang as he moved himself swiftly around the kitchen. "Number two, no smoking in the building. Number three, no violence in the workplace~! Number four, all workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential~ Number five, no drug use. Six, no alcohol. Seven, respect _all_ higher-ups!" He did an impressive twirl to move from the refrigerator to the counter, where he swiftly and gracefully sliced up fruit for his lunch. "Eight~ no profanity in the workplace~ Nine, no selling of our product to people outside of stores unless the _beautiful_ William T. Spears has given consent! Number ten, clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day~"

_"Mew,"_ Truth called up from her place on the ground, and Grell smiled at the white feline.

"Just practicing, dearie. I'm so excited about this job!"

_"Mew."_

"No, no, I know it's only been three days, but I'm still so jittery! I feel as though we've been getting closer by the hour, even as we spend time apart! And that sweet Mr. Knox was so kind, teaching me all of the rules! Number eleven - of _course_ - wash hands after using the bathroom. Twelve, when handling spectacles, use _utmost_ gentility and caution. Thirteen~! Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet. Fourteen! Ne~ever be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless. Fifteen~ if one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately. Sixteen! No uncalled for parties in the building! Seventeen! Do not bring foghorns into the workplace. Eighteen! No suprise birthday parties~ Nineteen! No slang! An~nd twenty! No running in the workplace! Tuck in your shirt, and don't tell lies! No parrots, no neon, and _always_ smile!"

The redhead grinned just by saying the word, and he slid down into the couch, having finished making lunch quickly enough to have about five minutes of down time before he had to leave for work. Truth immediately leapt up into his lap, and he smiled, stroking the cat's white fur. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so, _so_ happy. Mr. Spears is the kindest, most wonderful... most handsome... I tell you, love at first sight is a _very_ true thing~ I know my feelings for him are love. I _know_ it. And... there's something else - I think, maybe, he loves me, too. He's just so _shy_, you know?"

Grell leaned back in the couch, a content smile on his face as he remembered how William was _always_ looking him in the eye, _always_ speaking levelly, but whenever the redhead would touch him on the shoulder or around the waist, he would stiffen and twitch. Yes, he was _definitely_ shy.

"_Knoxie_ and I are going to have lunch together today, too," Grell said. "He says that he knows some intresting tidbits about Will that I'll just be crazy for!"

_"Mew,"_ Truth replied curtly, before leaping off of the couch. Grell clicked his tongue.

"Fine, dearie, be that way," he mumbled. He headed upstairs for a bit, and opened his phone, which he had left at home the past few days. "Oh, my, out of battery," he noted, before picking up the charger and plugging the device in. He then noticed it was time to leave, and he hopped down the stairs again, then over to the table, picking up his lunch before he headed outside of the apartment building. He moved along into the parking lot where his red car awaited him, and he slipped in, before starting on his way to Spear's Spectacles.

It really was a great thing he had this job. If he didn't, he'd probably have to sell his car and simply travel on foot.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he was greeted by Mr. Knox, who was giving a sort of cartoonishly large smile at him. He stepped out of the car and approached the blond, before sweeping him into a hug and twirling him about. "Morning, _Knoxie_ dear!" he cooed, nearly picking the younger male off of the ground as he gave another twirl. "Hey, we have a lo~ot to talk about at lunch."

"Ah... right," the other answered, although there was a slightly negative expression on his face. Grell passed it over, and bounded towards the building; he was a bit lighter on his feet without his heels on. He had taken a risk today, wearing a red suit instead of a black one, but he was sure William wouldn't mind; after all, he knew that he himself looked handsome in the red coat.

"Oh, I'm so excited, Knoxie. It's so much fun here~," he chirped as the two of them headed to the prescriptions department.

"It was more fun before you got hired," Mr. Knox muttered under his breath. Hurt, the redhead looked back at him.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, Knoxie?" he asked with a pout.

"No, I didn't mean _you_," the blond sighed. "But a couple of my... good friends... got fired the day you were hired."

"Really? My, that's a bummer... why were they fired?" Grell questioned. Mr. Knox paused, then gave a somewhat cautious answer.

"They just... slacked off too much," he mumbled. Grell sighed.

"Then, I suppose it couldn't be helped," he murmured. The blond glanced the other way, looking guilty about something, and Grell paused to muse the look for a moment, before heading to his desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Knox, Mr. Sutcliff," greeted William as he walked into the room.

"Morning, boss!" Mr. Knox said, his eyes lighting up a bit at the sight of the older male. Grell, too, perked up at William's voice, and he smiled flirtily at the boss, giving a wave and a wink.

"How are you on this fine morning, my dear Will?" he questioned. The ravenette sighed, and placed a small stack of papers on the redhead's desk, before pushing up his black-rimmed glasses.

"I'm fine, Mr. Sutcliff, but please refrain from addressing me so casually," he replied.

"_Yes_, sir, Mr. Spears, sir," Grell persisted, batting his eyelashes. Something inside of him knew he was making the other male uncomfortable.

But his unreasonable side didn't care at all.

"Did I ever tell you just how _handsome_ you were, Mr. Spears?" Grell called as the other walked away. He giggled as the door shut, and glanced back at Mr. Knox. "Hey, Knoxie," he whispered. "Think I should do it today?"

"Do _what?"_ the blond questioned, a trace of dread in his voice.

"Heehee~ We'll talk about it at lunch, 'kay? I've got big plans, Knoxie! _Big_ plans, indeed~!"

And it wasn't long before lunch came, with Grell working up a figurative sweat as he moved papers and hummed quietly to himself. The redhead gave a tiny, excited rock as he waited for Mr. Knox to set down his papers and join him, his lunch held in one hand as he chirped, _"Knoxiie~ Hurry_ up! Almost _everyone_ is taking their break now - we have to hurry if we're going to even land a seat on a _bench!"_

"I'm almost done, calm down," Mr. Knox sighed, a trace of annoyance in his voice. The blond soon straightened a stack of papers and moved it to a tray, before joining Grell and following him as he made his way towards the entrance of the building. He gave a short sigh as the redhead pressed a button for an elevator. "You know it's faster to just use the _stairs_, right?" he mumbled. The older male giggled.

"Yep! Don't be so down now, Ronnie, I have _such_ plans for today!"

"So I've heard," Mr. Knox said in a tired voice. He reluctantly stepped into the elevator as the metal doors opened, and he leaned against the wall as the two of them were carried down only two floors. The two then headed outside, where darker clouds had been gathering in the sky today.

Rain was coming.

"So, Knoxie, hear this," Grell said, his fingers tapping together nervously as he looked at his young friend. "I... I like Mr. Spears a _lot_," he confessed. "And I think he likes _me_, too. So today, I was thinking... perhaps right after lunch, I ask him out on a date. What do you think?"

The blond looked away so that Grell couldn't see the inevitable bitterness in his expression, and he said through gritted teeth, "Why wait? Isn't he right over there?"

Grell followed the point of the thumb that had been jabbed to their right, and he grinned when he saw the object of his affections was just on an adjacent bench, indifferently drinking from a bottle of water. "Wow, Knoxie, you're _so_ observant," the redhead murmured. "I didn't notice him until just now - can you _believe_ that?" The blond looked back at Grell with a suprisingly cheerful expression.

"You should go," he coaxed in a sweet voice. "Boss is a teddy bear - he'll probably scoop you right up into his arms and say yes."

"Y-you really think so?" Grell whispered excitedly, clasping his hands together. "He'll... _accept_ me? You're sure?"

"Oh, there's _no_ doubt," Mr. Knox replied. "But be persistent. He's _shy_." Missing the subtle hint of sarcasm in the other's voice, Grell stood up, and gave a brilliant smile.

"Thanks, Knoxie! I'll tell him! I'll tell him right _now!"_ he announced, before making his way over to William. "Oh, _Will_~," he said gently, sitting down next to the ravenette. "I have something to ask you."

The boss sighed. "If it is about work, would you please wait until I have finished eating?" he muttered. Grell giggled, and shook his head.

"No, no, nothing about _work_, William," he cooed, taking the other's hand and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. "It's something much _more_." The boss immediately withdrew his hand, an irritated look on his face which went without notice by the redhead. "Will, what I want to find out," Grell pressed, turning the boss's head towards him with a finger on the other's chin, "is if you and I could become _sweethearts_, you know? Want to go out, Will darling?"

The boss's thorn-green eyes sharpened at the comment, and he stood. "_Nonsense_, Mr. Sutcliff. Don't even suggest-"

"Oh, William, I _know_ you're shy!" Grell insisted, standing up as well and tackling the other in a fierce hug. "But don't fear love~ I can _show_ you, we can be the most delightful of partners! We can be_ lovers!_ _Husband and wife!"_

"I _said_ 'no!'" William snapped, shoving the other back.

"Stop denying it, I know _you_ like _me_, t-" Grell was cut short as a heavy fist hit him across the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards onto the ground.

_"Mr. Sutcliff!"_ William snarled, his snake-like eyes blazing with fury as he glared at the now hurt redhead. "How dare you suggest such sultry acts between us! I am a respectable man, and I cannot even _begin_ to describe how disgusted I am with you! Such things are beyond my comprehension - no, rather, it's even against_ regulations!_ You should be aware of this already, I am certiain that Mr. Knox explained everything to you. Perhaps this just wasn't meant to be.

"Mr. Sutcliff, you may forget I ever hired you. I tried to put up with your behavior, but this is just inexcuseable. Mr. Knox! Help him gather whatever personal belonging he has, then get him out of my sight." With that, the ravenette stalked off, and Grell continued to sit there, stunned.

_What the hell just happened?_

He reached up to touch his numb jaw, but the brush of his fingers brought life back into it, and a spike of pain shot through his skin at the touch. The redhead bit back a whimper, and instead sat back, trying to blink away his blurred vision, when he realized tears were welling up in his eyes. A warm, wet feeling ran down his cheek as one of the droplets fell, and the feminine male looked up at Mr. Knox with pure pain in his expression. The blond stared back at him with an unreadable look, a mixture of guilt, sympathy, apology, and..._ triumph?_

There was no use thinking about it. The only thing that mattered right now was that he hurt. _Everything_ hurt.

His heart. His soul. Of course, his jaw, too. It was a twisted symphony of pains, from light to caustic, and in the middle was bare _emptiness_. A void had been carved into his chest, as if his heart had been torn out of his body. And there it lay, still throbbing desperately, within the claws of William T. Spears, who merely dropped it, uncaring as the redhead who owned it became filled, instead, with dread, fear, and agony.

Grell hung his head, still trying to figure out what just happened to him. He barely even noticed as Mr. Knox stood up and walked over to him, before holding out a hand.

_"Miss_ Grell?"

The redhead's gaze snapped up, and he took the hand being offered, allowing it to pull him to his feet. "Knoxie...," he murmured. _"Why...?"_

"I'm sorry," Mr. Knox said, hanging his head. "Can you keep a secret?" Grell gave a small nod of his head, and the blond continued in a small voice, "I'm sorry, Grell. I needed to test the waters... you see... I..." The younger male trailed off, leaving the heartbroken redhead confused and even more frustrated. "I'm sorry," Mr. Knox said after a while, sadly shaking his head. "Let's go get your things."

Grell sniffled, and took off his glasses, wiping at the tears in his eyes before he followed the blond male in through the building, up to his office, where he picked up the photo of his family that he had moved to his office, as well as the red bag with other small belongings. He was escorted back out by Mr. Knox, who had a hand on his shoulder to comfort him until he was out to his car. The younger male headed back to the building, still with that guilty look on his face until the moment where Grell left.

The red-haired male had an empty expression as he drove back to the apartment complex, and the feeling inside him was like being slowly eaten by snakes from the inside out. He couldn't believe how cruel Mr. Spears had been - that man, full of arrogance and..._ and..._

_His thoughts trailed off into nothingness._

_It wasn't his fault._

_I should have seen the signs._

_He didn't like me - he never liked me._

_No one ever liked me._

Grell walked into his home, and sombered over to the bedroom, where he simply lay down, and closed his eyes. It was always like this. He would develop a budding crush - a love, even, and then, right when he thought that it might work, the other would crush him.

Like an insect.

_"Hannah," Grell said in a quiet voice, feeling the tension as his self-proclaimed girlfriend returned the acknowledgement. "W-we need to talk, Hannah," he whispered, before swallowing nervously. "You see... this isn't quite working out for me. You push me around too much... and I can't-"_

_"Can't _what_, you little twerp?" the other snapped, flipping her light, silvery hair as she glared at the other male. "Honestly, you're so damn indecisive, brat, you're always complaining about everything! Well, you know what? I'm sick of you, too! Your whiney voice, your girly dress, and your ridiculously long hair! Not to mention, you're always looking at other people all lovey-dovey - and you think I don't notice the way you look at that insignificant, stupid cleaning girl, Meirin?! Well, you're dead wrong, _'Red_,' and the next time you talk to me - no, the next time you _look_ at me with those impertinent eyes of yours, I swear I'll gouge them out."_

_Grell bit his lip, feeling a painful mixture of hate and fear swirling in his chest. This was definitely for the best that he would be able to part from her, regardless of how much her words stung. She certainly had belittled people before - she had the experience to crush him if she were up to it. And so, Grell knew agitating her further would be self-destruction, and he backed down, letting her storm away._

* * *

_"Oh, gosh, Grell, I'm so sorry," Pluto chuffed, hanging his head. "But... you see, we just can't keep losing business because... because of your personality. Jeez, I feel like a horrible person just sayin' it... listen, Grell... I... I'm gonna have to let you go..."_

_Grell looked down, and gave a tiny, shaky nod at the words. "Oh, Pluto," he whispered, "I understand... but where will I go? What will I do?" Warm arms wrapped around his body, and Grell hugged the silverette back, letting out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Plu... it is my fault that those customers won't return, but... but I just can't help myself anymore."_

_"It's okay," Pluto assured, before giving Grell's face a tiny, reassuring peck. "You've always been a good friend of mine, Grell. And I appreciate you a lot. You're sweet, kind, and you're almost always smiling. And I hate that I had to be the one shattering that brilliant smile. It was always so nice to see you, every day... But make yourself scarce for a bit, okay? Not too scarce, though! I want to see you in here again soon, 'kay?"_

_"Sure, Plu... I... I'll always come back to visit...," Grell whispered. "Always. I promise."_

* * *

_"Eric...," Grell said, a small blush on his face as he took in the sight of his half-blond friend. "You know, I've been thinking. You really are a wonderful guy... and you and I both know you aren't into women... So... what do you think about going out together?"_

_"Ah- oh, gosh, Grell," Eric sighed, shuffling. "Look, you're a great guy too, y'know, all sweet and nice, not to mention you're more beautiful than any woman I've ever seen. But the thing is... I have someone already... and-"_

_"You do?" Grell gasped. He didn't mean at all to sound so shocked, but he _was_, and it certainly showed. "But who-..." The redhead then drifted off, a hand coming up and covering his mouth as it hit him. "Alan?" he whispered._

_Eric gave a small nod. "Yeah... we were gonna tell ya, but y'see, Alan's kinda shy about it. That, and he was positive it would really hurt you... but... it's about time you knew, I guess."_

_"Oh...," Grell murmured. "So you're _both_... into guys. Sheesh, I kinda wish I'd met you both sooner."_

_"Sorry, Grell...," the other sighed. "But, you know, we're still your friends."_

_Grell gave a bitter smile._

Just friends.

That's what they all say.

* * *

_'Grell, I know you won't understand... but it was all to protect our parents from the horrible truth. Please forgive me.'_

_'I'm sorry, Grell.'_

_'Mr. Sutcliff! How dare you suggest such sultry acts between us! I am a respectable man, and I cannot even begin to describe how disgusted I am with you! Such things are beyond my comprehension - no, rather, it's even against regulations! You should know this; I know Mr. Knox explained everything to you. Perhaps this just wasn't meant to be. Mr. Sutcliff, forget it. I tried to put up with your behavior, but this is just inexcuseable. Mr. Knox! Help him gather whatever personal belonging he has, then get him out of my sight.'_

_'I _said_ no!'_

It was always this way. Grell was the forbidden fruit of town. He might have been alluring to some, but getting close to him at all ruined their reputation. But _he_ was the real victim, because _he_ could never approach _them_. Grell was a red pomegranate, and about his shoulders was the evil serpent which drove all away. He struggled and fought to escape its coils, to free himself and become something that everyone would want, that everyone would love, but it never happened. He was untouchable - _unlovable_ - and the worst part was that he knew it himself.

He had only one companion in the world - lonliness. Everyone he ever loved was either gone, or didn't return his feelings. Grell Sutcliff was alone.

_Forever_, alone.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

Ah, there was a nice angst relief right there. :P You may now spew hate at yours truly, Phoenix of Starlight, so long as you _don't_ forget to review!

And don't you DARE think I'm ending it there. (I'm a sucker for happy endings, after all.)


	9. Grell's Crush: Return

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 9: Return

* * *

_~William T. Spears~_

**The Regulations**

_Number one: No food, drink, or gum in the workplace._

_Number two: No public displays of affection or unprofessional relationships in the workplace._

_Number three: No smoking in the building._

_Number four: No violence in the workplace._

_Number five: All workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential._

_Number six: No drug use._

_Number seven: No alcohol._

_Number eight: Respect all higher-ups._

_Number nine: No use of profanity in the workplace._

_Number ten: No selling of our product to people outside of stores unless Mr. Spears has given consent._

_Number eleven: Clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day._

_Number twelve: Wash hands after using the restroom._

_Number thirteen: When handling spectacles, use utmost gentility and caution._

_Number fourteen: Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet._

_Number fifteen: Never be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless._

_Number sixteen: No emotional breakdowns in the workplace. This is not a day care._

_Number seventeen: If one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately._

_Number eighteen: No uncalled for parties in the building._

_Number nineteen: Do not bring foghorns into the workplace._

_Number twenty: No suprise birthday parties._

_Number twenty-one: No unneccessary physical contact._

_Number twenty-two: No slang._

_Number twenty-three: No running in the workplace._

_Number twenty-four: As a follow-up to rule five, tuck in your shirt._

_Number twenty-five: No addressing Mr. Spears by his first or middle names._

_Number twenty-six: Do not tell lies regarding work, the workplace, or the workers._

_Number twenty-seven: Under no circumstances should male workers dress in a feminine way. Rule five applies to all sexualities._

_Number twenty-eight: No parrots or mentioning of parrots or their wellbeing in the workplace._

_Number twenty-nine: Mr. Spears is single. This does not mean he will date his workers. Keep whatever affections you may have to yourself._

_Number thirty: No vibrant, neon colors._

_Number thirty-one: Even if you're miserable, pretend to be happy so that other workers won't feel uncomfortable. Sad workers make bad product._

_Number thirty-two: Lock your office door before you leave for the day._

_Number thirty-three: The next person to ask Mr. Spears on a date will be fired immediately._

_Number thirty-four: Do not judge Mr. Spears's methods._

_Number thirty-five: If you cannot hide your feelings, let them out, but know that you are going to have to let them go immediately afterwards._

_Number thirty-six: Do not paint the walls of your office._

_Number thirty-seven: The door of your office is also considered a wall._

_Number thirty-eight: If you have no control and have to goof-off, please keep all doodles work-appropriate._

_Number thirty-nine: Stop comparing Mr. Spears name to those of playwriters and teenage idols._

_Number forty: 'Running' papers does not give consent to actually run in the halls._

* * *

"Knox! _Please_ hurry up with those prescriptions!" Mr. Spears snapped. "We just caught up, I do not wish to fall behind again!"

"It's your fault for firing Grell!" Mr. Knox retorted, writing quickly and finally handing off a stack to the boss. "And if you would stop patrolling and join me, we could get things done _twice_ as fast!" Mr. Spears, who was about to rush out, balked, and looked back at the blond.

"But there may be workers breaking rules," he said, sounding a bit dumbfounded.

Mr. Knox stood, and walked over to the other. "Hey, boss, who cares?" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "On a heavy day like this, _no one_ can afford to slack, and since they'll be expecting you to be patrolling, they'll be really diligent anyway. Why don't you just... let it go for today? The triplets are running papers, so you can sit down and work, too. Just _relax_, boss."

The ravenette paused. "Hm. I suppose I have been somewhat tense since the incident with Mr. Sutcliff. Fine, then. After I give these reports to Thompson, I will take the desk next to you." Missing the blush that invaded Mr. Knox's cheeks, Mr. Spears strode out and started for the lenscrafting department. He managed to find Thompson - no, correction, _Timber_, on the way, however, and he simply handed the reports off. "I am going to get down to working on prescriptions, as well. Please take care to bring these to Mr. Anderson."

"Sure thing, boss," Timber said. "It's about time you sat down and worked, too, if I'm not outta place sayin' so." The purple-haired male walked away at that, and Mr. Spears sighed, before heading back into the prescriptions department. Mr. Knox looked at him with a smile, and the ravenette headed over to the desk that Mr. Sutcliff had been occupying previously, before sitting down.

"Finnian might come in time to time to pick up some work, too," Mr. Knox informed him, picking up a few reports and handing them to Mr. Spears. "Oh, and about those computers..."

"Yes, yes, I will be buying those myself," Mr. Spears sighed. It had happened a couple days ago - someone had vandalized the computers, as the doors had been left unlocked. Mr. Spears felt as though it was his fault for not coming back and checking them, so he took it upon himself to purchase the six new computers.

"No, no, boss," Mr. Knox said. "Um... _I_ want to pay for them."

"What? Why would you do that?" the ravenette questioned, looking back at the blond in surprise.

"Well... it wasn't your fault, really, and... I guess with all of my reckless internet surfing, mine could've crashed from my use any time, so I want to pay you back for what _could_ have happened."

"Could have?" Mr. Spears said. "But... that never _did_ happen."

Mr. Knox shook his head. "Just let me do it, boss. Tell me how much I need to pay you."

Mr. Spears was shocked.

Today had seemed doomed to be a bad day.

The work load was heavy, and the ravenette had been uncomfortable all the way up until lunch. Then, as soon as he began to relax, Mr. Sutcliff ran over and began to sexually harass him. Out of fear of getting all awkward and nervous, he'd decided to get the redhead out of his sight, and never see him again, if possible.

And now, here was Mr. Knox, offering to help pay for new computers.

Mr. Spears _almost_ saw a halo over that man's head.

"Very well. You may come with me when I head out to buy the new computers today. Thank you, Mr. Knox," Mr. Spears sighed. Mr. Knox's eyes lit up like those of an excited puppy, and he gave a bright smile, before turning to his work and starting to write. Mr. Spears followed suit.

_... Wow, it is quiet. I thought he would start asking me questions right from the start to annoy the heck out of me,_ Mr. Spears thought after a while, glancing at the blond. Mr. Knox continued to work in silent diligence._ It is a little impressive. I have never watched him work, let alone worked with him, and I always expected that he would start slacking within the minute. Perhaps he is not as bad as I thought he would be._

"Hey, boss?" Mr. Knox began in a quiet voice.

The ravenette sighed, "Yes, Mr. Knox?"

"Um... about Grell," the younger murmured. "I'm sorry. I... I might have kinda encouraged him a bit to tell you how he feels."

"Ah," Mr. Spears said. "Why did you do so? Did you not tell him it was against regulations to have unprofessional relationships here?"

"... Boss, can I be honest with you? I swear, I'll tell you exactly what happened if you promise not to fire me," Mr. Knox pressed. The ravenette glanced at him.

"You were jealous of Mr. Sutcliff, and to have him back off, you gave him hope to confess to me so that he would back down. In this, you also left out the rules that involved relationships when teaching him. Meanwhile, you were also seeing what not to do if you were ever to confess to me," he stated.

The other flushed red. "Oh, jeez... you... you _knew?"_

"I am not as inexperienced as you think, Mr. Knox," Mr. Spears sighed. "While I have not been in a loving relationship before, I _do_ know how people act when they want to be in one. You, Mr. Knox, show almost all of the signs."

"Heh... do I? ... I guess this means you're gonna fire me now, huh?" Mr. Knox mumbled, an indescribably sad expression on his face.

"What is Rule Thirty-five, Mr. Knox?" the boss questioned.

"... If you can't hide your feelings, then let them out... but banish your feelings immediately afterwards...," the blond whispered. "I understand, boss."

"Very good."

Just then, Cantebury entered the room with an obscenely large stack of papers in his arms. He placed the stack on Mr. Knox's desk, and walked out, Mr. Knox thanking him as he left. Finnian came in shortly after, gave Mr. Spears a confused look, then took a third of the stack and left again. Mr. Knox passed Mr. Spears some more papers, and they got back to work.

The silence was _lovely_. It was calm, peaceful, and for the first time in years, it helped Mr. Spears relax. That was a rarity, to say the least.

"Boss..."

"Hey, boss..."

A small prod in his cheek roused the boss, and he groaned, his eyes opening slowly. He sat up immediately, and his head snapped towards the clock. Six in the evening. It dawned on him that he had dozed off, and he blushed slightly, before glaring at the one who had woken him - namely, Mr. Knox. "Why did you let me sleep?" he protested.

"Why? Well... I dunno," Mr. Knox answered. "I guess the work got a little more doable later on in the day, so... I didn't mind."

Mr. Spears rubbed his eyes and yawned, silently kicking himself for it. "Ugh... how unlike me," he muttered. "Well, the work day is nearly over, so-"

He cut himself off as Timber came in, at least two hundred more reports in his arms. He set them down, and Mr. Knox winced, before looking back at the boss. "What timing, am I right?"

The ravenette groaned, before sighing, "Slingby and Humphries were the ones who usually handled the work from three to nine..."

"You could... hire them back," Mr. Knox suggested.

"No. I do not wish to look indecisive," Mr. Spears snapped.

"And you'd rather look stupid?" Mr. Knox retorted, before gasping and covering his mouth. "Oh, jeez, slip of the tongue. Sorry, boss - I didn't mean..."

"... You _are_ right," Mr. Spears muttered. "Very well."

"Huh?"

"I will call them," Mr. Spears said. "I suppose a boss who recognizes a mistake is more respectable than one who ignores a problem." He took his cell phone from his coat pocket, and called Alan Humphries (who was always more reliable that Mr. Slingby when it came to answering his phone).

("H-hello...?")

"Alan Humphries, this is William T. Spears," said the boss. "I would like you to return to Spears's Spectacles, if you have not yet found work elsewhere."

("What? You mean it, Mr. Spears?")

"Indeed. Knox and I need to go out to buy new computers before the store closes, and the work load has picked up again. Plus, Finnian will probably start crying if we do not let him leave on time."

("O-oh... and what happened to the computers...?")

"Long story short, we will be locking _all_ doors from now on," Mr. Spears sighed.

("Okay... I'll tell Eric, then?")

"Yes, thank you," the ravenette said. "Welcome back, Alan Humphries, and give my regards to Mr. Slingby, as well."

("Thanks, boss!")

Mr. Spears closed the phone, and nodded to Mr. Knox, before heading out with him. The two took the stairs, walking outside of the building with a pleasant aura between them. "... Hey, now that we're technically off of work, can I call you William?" Mr. Knox questioned.

"Very well, Mr. Knox."

"... Can you call me Ronald?" the blond asked. William glanced at him.

"Fine then... Ronald," he said. He'd have to get used to that.

William soon walked over to his car, and said, "You may just drive behind me if you wish."

"Um... well, I don't really have a car," Mr... Ronald... answered, and the ravenette looked back at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"I jog to work," Ronald said with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so? Well, then, I suppose you can get in the passenger's seat, and I could drive you home," William suggested.

"Okay~," the younger chirped immediately. William watched as the blond slipped himself into his car, and rolled his eyes, before getting into the driver's seat. As he left the parking lot for his company, however, he felt a twinge of curiosity.

"... So, do you have a driver's license?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I don't like driving too much," Ronald answered. "There are so many people out who are just really rude on the road, and there's a lot of traffic in this crowded neighborhood. Jogging gets the blood flowing and helps me cheer up before I sit down to work."

"Hm. Well, I suppose I should have expected as much," William commented. "You _do_ appear to be more of an athletic person than one who is always in an office."

"Heh, do I, really?" Ronald mused. "Well, honestly, I don't mind being inside an office. Not if it means doing something I love."

As they slowed at a red light, William looked back at Ronald. "Do you really enjoy spectacle crafting that much?" The blond gave a small laugh.

"Well... there's more to work than _just_ work," he said. William shrugged it off, and started driving again, soon pulling along the sidewalk of an electronics store.

To William's surprise, Ronald behaved himself through the whole trip, and he wouldn't let William pay for any more than two of the six computers that had been vandalized. William was happy with this, and he drove Ronald back to the apartment where he lived, as promised. The blond gave him a cheerful grin and a wave as he left. As he drove, William couldn't help but muse how pleasant his biggest pet-peeve had been. He pulled back into his house, and headed inside.

"Noon, Will!" chirped Shakespeare as William headed back into the house. The ravenette walked over to the cage where the parrot resided, and he sat down on the couch.

"Good afternoon, Shakespeare," he said.

_"Si!"_

William chuckled. "I do not speak Italian, little bird."

_"Fame! Fame!"_

"As if you know that Drocell is coming to pick you up again today," William sighed. "You know... I did not mind your company too much, Shakespeare. You are a pretty nice bird."

The parrot hopped over to the cage, and gave the boss of Spears's Spectacles a sort of sideways look, before singing, _"Mr. Spears is falling down, falling down, falling down, Mr. Spears is falling down, my true master!"_

William snapped to attention, his mouth hanging open slightly. Didn't that bird only call him 'Will' up until now? And since when did this _particular_ verse of London Bridge become part of the bird's memorized phrases? What the _hell_ did Drocell teach this thing?

_Knock knock knock!_

"Drocell?" William called with a hint of paranoia.

"Yes. I had thought, you must be home now, so I am here to pick up Shakespeare."

The ravenette hurried over to the door, and opened it, forcing a smile at his orange-haired neighbor. "Hello, Mr. Keinz," he said. "I apologize - for a moment, I thought your bird was singing_ 'Mr. Spears is falling down,'_ and I was still a little surprised when you arrived."

"Oh, did he say _that?"_ Mr. Keinz said, his eyes widening in suprise. "I thought, that is not good." The orange-haired male invited himself in, and walked over to the cage. _"Che cosa successo?"_

The bird rattled the cage slightly, squawking, _"Molta tristezza, Docee!"_

William bristled, biting his lip as the two exchanged words. Drocell creased his eyebrows in thought, before murmuring, "So that's how it is. His energy isn't good?"

_"Si!"_ the bird confirmed.

Drocell looked back at William, before saying solemnly, "You must be more optimistic. Otherwise, you will be miserable for much of your life. It's not all about business. Life is about fun, too."

"... What...?"

"_Andiamo,_ Shakespeare," Drocell said, picking up the bird cage and walking away, a small stagger in his step as he sang, _"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling down, my fair lady."_

William shuddered, before closing and locking the door.

The ravenette soon fixed dinner for himself, and within the hour he'd changed into a set of comfortable sleeping clothes and nestled himself into bed for the night. _Life is about fun, too, huh? _he mused._ I enjoy life. I have fun. I just know that in a work environment, it is more convenient to be professional and serious..._

He gave one last defeated sigh, before closing his eyes.

_And there is _nothing_ I need to change._

**-End Chapter**

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^^ ~ Hehe~ Almost done with Grell's Crush! One more chapter! :D

Review to find out if things will improve for Grell!


	10. Grell's Crush: Final Blow

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 1: Grell's Crush.**

Chapter 10: Final Blow.

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_~Grell Sutcliff~_

_Darkness. Darkness, **everywhere**. It tears through the light like a raven-black sword, dispersing it with a kingly authority that can't be matched if it stands alone. Its terrible blade is edged with tears - the tears of the many who forged the sword, the tears of those who will never have love._

_But who now wields the sword?_

_There he stands, Mr. William T. Spears, with his green eyes like those of a horrible python as he draws back his lips in a fanged snarl. His black hair is combed back, like a lion's mane that has been darkened by hate. And he runs, right towards the red cardinal who was resting in a tree, blissfully unaware, and down came that humongous sword, heavy as a hatchet in his hands, as he at last made the killing blow-_

_But the red bird did not die._

_What the predator severed was his heart from his body. Yes, he stole away what the bird needed to live life with even a false smile - what the bird needed to thrive as a being with a soul. The heartstrings were cut, and now, the only thing left was that hateful emptiness. That ridiculous nothingness, that would no longer harbor anything positive, ever, for the rest of eternity._

_The void that represented the love he could have had._

Grell gave a small jolt, his eyes snapping open, and he gave a tired groan when he realized it had been yet another nightmare. They were always different, these dreams, but the ending was always the same.

A bit like the various stories of his life.

_Hannah Annafellows._

_Pluto._

_Angelina D. Sutcliff._

_Rachel S. Phantomhive._

_Eric Slingby._

_William T. Spears._

And every time the tale replayed, Grell was a little more broken than the last one. Every time it ended, his already painfully mended heart shattered again, into more and more pieces. Shards that dug into his being, eventually becoming another fake, patched-up heart.

_There's no meaning in living on without love - at least, not for me. For me, if no one loves you, then you are merely an annoyance to the world. No one loves me. Therefore, I am the world's annoyance. I'm nothing more than a bothersome, confused being that the world thinks is an abomination. Maybe they're right. Maybe I am horrible. Maybe I should be gone from this world._

_In fact... maybe, they'd be happier if I was._

Grell curled closer to himself as a loud rumble wracked through his body. He had been ignoring the hunger pains for a while now... three days, to be precise. He wasn't sure he saw the point in eating, after all, love would never belong to him. Was there a point to _anything_ when he didn't have love?

Truth begged for Grell to get out of bed, and the redhead complied - but only for her sake. As soon as she was fed, he'd return to the bed, solemn. Just as he'd planned, he fed his light-furred feline, and was soon sombering back towards his room. He crawled under the warm covers of his bed, but even their warmth couldn't be comforting to him anymore.

_Were there_ rules on dating William? _Were there_ rules against femininity? And if there were... _why_ did Mr. Knox never tell him? _Why_ was Mr. Knox encouraging him to go for something that was impossible for him to reach?

Maybe it was just... maybe it was all his fault.

_That word - that dispicable word - which had cut through me all too many times should have been there to put me back in place. I could have been saved by that word which I loathe so much. I could have used it, and none of this would have ever happened. But I was weak, and I thought that using that word on myself would onlybring pain. It would, of _course_, but not pain like this._

_That word - that ambivalent word - which could have saved me then, was dismissed by my own blindness._

_I should have used it before, because now, it really will do no better than hurt me._

_Whore_.

_I hate that word. I've abhorred it with every fiber of my being ever since my sister gave up her child and became a prostitute. No, even before, I've hated it - after all, I'm no stranger when it comes to being addressed by such a term. It is a hateful word. The occupation isn't the trouble - it is the meaning behind someone who isn't one being addressed as such._

_More proof that I'm unloved._

_More evidence of my misery._

It felt as though there was some horrible beast within him, chewing on his frayed and injured nerves, sending a numb ache throughout his entire being. A beast, a parasidic monster, destroying it all with a tongue of flames that chars and burned everything Grell had ever felt with. He felt as though as his body slowly burned away, he gradually lost every last thing he could live for.

But he didn't want to die, either.

Too scary.

The cat on his bed gave his shoulder a light nudge, and Grell sighed. "Not now, dearie, I can't move," he mumbled into his pillow. He'd already cried until there were no tears left. He'd rolled over until his body had given up on finding a comfortable place. He was done. Defeated.

_Beep-beep-beep!_

And that _beeping_ noise was getting really irritating. If he heard it one more time, he was going to snap. His phone had been beeping loudly since it had finished charging, and he just wasn't in the mood to see the texts that he'd gotten. Even so, he angrily grabbed the device, just to shut it up, and he pressed on the first new text.

_'From: Alan. To: Grell_

_'Hey, Grell. How are you? Eric's such a dweeb, he just gets more and more affectionate. ;P Anyway, you up for lunch?'_

Eleven days ago.

_'From: Alan. To: Grell_

_'Grell? Call me, Grell! Eric and I just got FIRED! Boss found us making out - talk about humiliating! D:'_

Nine days ago.

_'From: Alan. To: Grell_

_'Grell? We really need to talk, dude.'_

Five days ago.

_'From: Alan. To: Grell_

_':D :D :D Idk why, but boss just hired us back! Party at ours, text if you can come!'_

Three days ago.

That was odd.

Grell was hired nine days ago, and then... he was fired three days ago. Could that really _just_ be a coincidence?

Suddenly, it all clicked.

_'Mr. Knox,_' and _'Mr. Spears,_' were the same as _'Ronald_,' and _'boss_.'

_Oh, hell._

Ronald Knox. Of all things, he got tangled up with _Ronald Knox_. That explained everything! The infamous Ronald Knox, in love with his boss, also known as William T. Spears. Eric and Alan had worked at Spears's Spectacles - they had told Grell all of the stories, but by calling everyone but William by their first names, Grell never learned exactly where they worked. And by not learning where they worked, he was completely oblivious when William fired them.

Mr. Knox's _'two good friends.'_

Grell felt as though he'd fallen into the scheme of the universe. He was the world's joke.

Ronald didn't tell him those rules on purpose. He knew from the very _beginning_ how Grell felt for William, and from the start of it all, he plotted to crush Grell's feelings to eliminate his rival. But... Grell knew that Ronald was a good man - he should have picked up on the blond's body language and subtle hints, but, of course, he had been senselessly pursuing William during the time. He and Ronald could have even been friends, but his lack of perception at such a critical time cost him that. Ronald encouraged him, perhaps not intending to get him _fired;_ instead, the blond probably just expected William to turn Grell down, and destroy his hope of having a relationship so that Grell would move on to someone else.

_'I just needed to test the waters.'_

_'Can you keep a secret?'_

Those were the vital hints Grell needed. Mr. Knox wanted to entrust him with the secret love he held for William, but in the end, he didn't have the nerve to. The redhead almost felt sorry for the younger, when anger swamped over him, and he bit his lip.

_How could I feel sorry for that little rat? He should have at least tried to play fair!_ his mind protested.

But really, there were some things that Grell was just done with - one was complaining, and the other was loving. He didn't want to be the world's annoyance anymore - it was an incredibly difficult role to fill, after all.

He had to give up on William completely in order to move on - if he could ever move on. If he could ever get over those devilishly beautiful green eyes, that porcelain skin, that ink-black hair, and that slender frame that would never belong to him.

Grell picked up his phone, and called Alan. (... "Grell? Where've you been, dude? Eric and I were worried about you!") The redhead bit his lip. It had been a while since he heard his friend's voice, and moreover, knowing that Eric and Alan had been his replacements was a bit tough. _However_, he recalled, _I was the one to replace them only a week ago._ _Maybe I shouldn't tell him what happened..._

"Alan...," Grell began, but his voice broke on him. "Oh, Alan darling..."

("Grell?" came the surprised voice. "Hey, are you all right?!")

"I was hired by Mr. Spears, Alan," Grell whispered. "I must've taken your place. And then... then... I fell in love with Mr. Spears, Alan... and... and then... _Knoxie_..."

("Shh, shh, I _know_," Alan said. "We mentioned you to Ronald yesterday. He told us _everything_. Gosh, Grell, you have no idea how sorry he is about what he did to you. He told us to tell you that he's so sorry over what happened, and that he wishes you could stay here and be his friend. He didn't know how hard Mr. Spears would turn you down.")

"He said all that?" Grell said. "But... he still..."

("Jeez, Grell, of all people in the world, you fell for Mr. Spears," Alan whispered. "Why'd you do it? Everyone talks about him.")

"... He just _seemed_ so nice...," Grell mumbled.

("He's a snake in human skin, Grell. Ronald's a _fool_ for thinking that Mr. Spears will _ever_ take him. You need to give up... you'll only get hurt if you try to pursue Mr. Spears.")

"... I know," the redhead murmured. "I'm going to give up on him..."

("It's for the best. I promise," Alan assured. "Please, just... find someone else.")

_Find someone else._

Grell almost had the urge to laugh hysterically. As if he could possibly find someone. As if anyone would have the nerve to return his feelings. It was always, _always_ like this. Every time, without fail, he would lose his reason and replace it with love, and in turn, he would have the given emotions returned as hatred.

Grell was the forbidden fruit. No one could ever partake in him without becoming a worldly annoyance as well. He was to be shunned by all, abhorred by all, and everyone was meant to be repulsed by his very existence.

Would anyone ever say otherwise? Was there a chance that somewhere out in the huge world, there was someone who could deal with him? Once upon a time, Grell would have excitedly said that his knight in shining armor would be there for him, and that it would only be a matter of days before it happened. But it never _did_ happen. He was twenty-two years old, and no one had sought him out yet. Sure, his life wasn't even half over, but what did that matter! If he ended up with less than half of his life to share with someone who loved him, he'd be happy, but he could easily be happier.

He wanted love, and he wanted it _fast_.

But he no longer had the heart to search for it.

**-Grell's Crush: End.**

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Short chapter is short. ;-; But YAY! End of Arc 1! On to Arc 2: Claude's Desire~! Oh, the fun we shall have. *evil laughter*

Dammmn! A triple-upload! First time I've pulled that for this story! :D

Review for some Mr. Faustus!


	11. Claude's Desire: Shout

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 1: Shout

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_~Claude Faustus~_

"You know, Claude, I _really_ appreciate you letting me come along on one of your famous walks~," Alois chirped, cuddling the ravenette's arm as the two of them walked.

"Of course. You're old enough to come along with me, and while I do like being alone, I know I haven't been spending a lot of time with you, and it's not fair," Claude sighed. "Ciel's studies take up too much of my day. Perhaps it's about time for me to ask Sebastian to tutor him."

"Hehe! That would work out perfectly, except Sebastian might keep distracting him," Alois snickered. "You know how _they _are." Claude rolled his eyes, before pressing a button to cross a street.

"Alois," Claude murmured, "I hope you're hungry. We're going to have lunch at Pluto's."

"Oh, really? Yay!" Alois cheered, jumping excitedly up and down. "Heehee, thanks, Claude!" The ravenette gave a small smile.

"But of course."

Alois was so much more mature now, in appearance, at least. A senior in high school, the blond was now inches away from Claude's shoulders in height (which was much more of an accomplishment than it sounded). He'd found his own style of dress - the general being a t-shirt, a coat, short shorts and heeled boots. Claude accepted this, although he wouldn't wear such clothing himself.

As soon as the two walked into Pluto's, the owner smiled brightly and came over to them, giving them both a firm hug. "How are you, Mr. Faustus?" he woofed. "Are things at the orphanage going well?"

"Very," Claude said. "In three days, Drocell is planning on bringing his pet parrot, Shakespeare, to the place. I can already see Sebastian talking with the bird."

"Haha, sounds like fun!" Pluto barked. "Anyway, let me find you a server... Aleister? Is Aleister Chambers available?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" announced a tall, blond man, waking away from a table with a few women and coming over to the two. He looked Claude and Alois both up and down, then smiled widely. "Why, you two are a beautiful duo! Like angel and demon, your contrasting bodies make a delightful symphony of a very unique beauty! Young lad, your platinum blond hair and sky-blue eyes! I can see you now in the heavens above, with glorious white wings spread from your back and a halo above your head! Then you, good sir, your ink-black hair staggering to juxtapose against that lovely, porcelain skin! And your yellow eyes, like the rich jewels of gold that any maiden would wish for their own engagement rings! You are like an alluring demon, with your supreme, unearthly beauty that the ladies must fancy to an incredible extent! What may I do for you two impressive, young males?"

"Heh. We're just looking for a table. Thank you," Claude said. Aleister bowed, and began to lead the two to a table, smiling happily as the two sat down.

"I'll be right with you to take your drinks, good sirs," the waiter said, before heading away. Claude sighed softly, picking up a menu.

"How was school?" he asked Alois.

"Oh, it was great," the other said. "You should've seen me in cooking class today, Claude! I baked a whole batch of cookies! They were so good!"

"Really? I loved cooking class in my freshman year," Claude sighed, smiling as he remembered the late Mr. Tanaka. "Forgive me if I've already asked, but who was your teacher for that class?"

"Mr. Aberline."

"Ah, right," Claude said with a nod. "I think I remember him. He's quite kind."

"Mm hm," Alois hummed in agreement. "He was going to try to take the position of guidance counselor at the school, but Mr. Randall took the place instead."

"Ugh, I _hated_ Randall," Claude muttered, and the blond laughed in response.

"Heehee! He's not the nicest," Alois agreed.

"So, Drocell is going to stop by with his parrot, Shakespeare, in a few days," the ravenette said.

"Yep! Sebastian's probably going to try to teach him verses to 'Romeo and Juliet,'" Alois giggled.

"I can already see him trying," the older male sighed. "But you know, the bird speaks Italian like Drocell. That's what has me amazed. You'd never think that a bird could distinguish between two languages."

"Any pet of Mr. Keinz is bound to be special," the blond answered. "He could teach a dog to sing opera songs."

Chuckling, the ravenette nodded, when the extravagant waiter Aleister Chambers returned to their table. "Hello again, my fine sirs!" he greeted. "What might I get you two to drink this evening?"

"Just water for me," Claude said.

"Same here," Alois chirped.

"Oh, you two, by choosing plain drinks, you only enhance your unique gorgeousness!" the older male said, before prancing off again. "I'll return soon, good sirs!"

"He's a bit _odd_," Alois noted.

"Actually, he kind of reminds me of you," the ravenette teased. "Do you know what you're going to have?"

"Um, yeah, the curry bread looks pretty good," the younger replied.

"Ha, that's one of Pluto's specials - the many types of curry they have," Claude noted. "I'm just going with a chicken sandwich today, though."

"Whatever you want, Claude," Alois laughed, before a softer look overcame him, and he reached across the table and grabbed the other's hand. "Hey, Claude? Thank you."

"For... what?" Claude whispered.

"_Everything_. You've been there for me like a father since I was little, and you and Mr. Tanaka raised me so nicely. When Mr. Tanaka died, it seemed like you would never smile again," Alois said, a wistful expression on his face. "For days, you wouldn't laugh. All of your smiles were clearly faked, and you lost a lot of patience for mischief. But you healed, and it impressed everyone when you came out and singlehandedly decorated the entire orphanage for the holidays. That was the _real_ proof that you got better."

Claude sighed. "Yeah... Mr. Tanaka was very important to me, too," he murmured. "Not only did he give me a place to escape to, but he gave me a car, a job, and just about anything else I could ask for. It was hard when he passed, but you know... it happens to everyone."

Alois gave a small nod, before withdrawing his hand as Aleister returned to the table to take their orders.

"Claude," the young blond said in a lower voice right after the two had told their waiter what they wanted, "I have a confession, and... and I've wanted to share this with you for a while."

"Yes, Alois?"

"... Phew, this is hard, hehe... okay, um...," the blond stuttered, before saying in a low voice, "I think I might be gay, Claude."

"... Is that all?" Claude said after an awkward pause. Alois blushed.

"What do you mean,_ 'is that all'?!_ That took a lot of courage!" he complained. The ravenette tapped the table twice, a sort of signal for silence.

"Alois, it's _not_ a big deal," he said. "You're just like everyone else, with the exception of a different sexuality. There's nothing wrong with that." _Besides_, the ravenette added mentally,_ I can't help but notice that Sebastian and Ciel are the same way._ "And Alois," Claude murmured, "I'm bisexual. All right? There is nothing - _nothing_ - wrong with that."

Alois sat back for a moment, shocked. "You are? Really?" Claude closed his eyes and nodded. "Wow, Claude... I never would have guessed," the younger breathed. "You know... they make a big deal about it at school."

Claude shook his head in disappointment. "They're wrong to do so," he whispered. "No matter what a person likes, they are still a person, and need to be treated as such."

The blond gave a small smile. "Sometimes, I really wish you'd been my biological father." Claude chuckled.

"We're only seven or eight years apart."

"You _feel_ like a parent, though," Alois whispered. Claude didn't answer, instead just letting their eye contact convey anything Alois needed to know.

The two were quiet as they left Pluto's cafe a half hour later, until they came up to a flower shop, and Alois at last broke the silence. "Hey, Claude? It's Ciel's birthday next week. Can I get him flowers?"

"They'd wilt by next week if we bought them today," Claude sighed.

"I just want to look right now! _Please?"_ the younger said with his traditional puppy-eyes.

"Fine, fine," Claude said. He and Alois headed into the flower shop, and he was slightly surprised to see the owner.

Angela Landers.

"Angela!" he said as Alois skipped over to look at a basket filled with bluebells. "It's been a long time. Where's your brother?"

"_Claude?_ It _has_ been a while!" she laughed. "Ash is in the back. He delivers for me."

"Mind if I go visit him?" Claude asked.

"Go ahead," she invited. The ravenette moved through the store, eventually coming over to the white-haired male, who was just crumpling up and throwing away a tissue.

"Ash?" he said. The other looked up, and smiled brightly.

"Claude!" he greeted. "Wow, it's been _too_ long, Claude," he said, coming over and patting the other's shoulder.

"Indeed. We've hardly said a word to each other since high school," Claude said.

"Still have the same _'lone wolf'_ look you've always had, though," Ash commented. "Still work at the orphanage?"

"Mm hm," the ravenette hummed, nodding. "I never thought you'd be working in a flower shop, though. I thought you had allergies."

"Oh, I do... I do...," Ash sighed, before sneezing into his arm, as if on cue. "But Angela really needed to get the place started, and... well, I've been delivering bouquets for her."

"What happened to becoming a photographer?" Claude asked. The white-haired male looked away.

"It'll happen...," he murmured. The ravenette patted him on the shoulder.

"Chase that dream, Ash," he said. Ash sneezed into his arm again, before dismissing Claude with a wave of his hand.

"You should go. I have a delivery to make soon," he said. The other male nodded, before heading back into the front of the shop. "Alois? You said you had a book to pick up at the school?"

"Yeah...," Alois sighed, placing a strand of bluebells back into a basket. He walked back to the ravenette, and the two bid Angela farewell before leaving the shop.

"Your school is really close to that huge building Spears's Spectacles, isn't it?" Claude said. The blond nodded. "Would you mind meeting me on that street? I'd rather not tag along into the school, if that's all right."

"That's fine," Alois answered with a smile. The two continued along towards the other side of town, Claude taking note of a new sign on a small shop that said, "_Therapy and Guidance - 'The Undertaker'"_ as they went. That was certainly a recently-opened small business, after all, the place had been for sale only a few weeks back. It was nice to know that there was a new psychiatrist in town, after all, Claude wasn't happy that the only options for the children seemed to be the school counselor who was hardly involved. Heck, he wasn't even a _counselor_, really.

The two soon came up to the school, and parted ways so Alois could get his book. Claude, meanwhile, headed north a bit, soon coming out to Spear's Spectacles. He always loathed that over-glorified building, with their pompous rules... But the moment the building came into sight, something particularly surprising came up.

He recognized the two males in front. The glasses-wearing one was Mr. Spears himself, as well as that nerdy, emotionless senior that Claude had caught glimpses of in high school. He'd seen the red-haired fellow around a few times, too - that one rather reminded him of Alois, as well.

To his shock, William hit the red-haired male right across the jaw, and yelled, "Mr. Sutcliff! How _dare_ you suggest such _sultry_ acts between us! I am a respectable man, and I cannot even begin to describe how _disgusted_ I am with you! Such things are beyond my comprehension - no, rather, it's even against_ regulations!_ You should be aware of this already, I am _certain_ that Mr. Knox explained everything to you. Perhaps this just wasn't meant to be.

"Mr. Sutcliff, you may forget I ever hired you. I tried to put up with your behavior, but this is just _inexcuseable_. Mr. Knox! Help him gather whatever personal belonging he has, then_ get him out of my sight."_

The red-haired male had been sent to the ground by the blow, and Claude had half a mind to run over there, help him up, and kick Mr. Spears's ass. But he knew that he had no right to step in - tempting though it was - as he hadn't any knowledge of the situation. Besides, some other blond kid was there to help the redhead up.

Claude wasn't quite sure what to think of what he'd just witnessed. He'd heard that Mr. Spears wasn't the nicest - in fact, the purple-haired triplets Thompson, Timber, and Cantebury gossipped about him quite often (the three had been in the orphanage for almost seven years, and had started working at the company a couple years before moving out of the orphanage and on to their own apartment). And perhaps he was a little influenced by Alois's talk with him earlier, but knowing how effeminate that red-haired male was, he was particularly peeved with how the other had yelled at the male.

Really, there was a rise in cruelty with mankind lately, and Claude wasn't happy with it. And if he'd been brought up the way his parents had wanted him to, he'd probably be like them, too. But thanks to Mr. Tanaka, he had something more. He knew how to show love and compassion (even if he was still _extremely_ nervous with romance), and he treated people without discrimination.

_Damn_, was he thankful for Mr. Tanaka.

"Claude?"

The golden-eyed male jumped slightly when Alois prodded him in the side, now realizing just how long he'd been standing there, fuming. "Hey," he said. "Let's head back now."

The blond nodded cheerfully, and he and Claude began to head back to the orphanage together, Claude still silently musing how horrible that which he just witnessed was.

**-End Chapter**

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Yay~ I managed to end chapter one of the new arc before my weekend ended! Hurrah!

Please Review!


	12. Claude's Desire: The Orphanage

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chaper 2: The Orphanage

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_~Claude Faustus~_

_~A week later..._

_It was a beautiful forest, with branches that were entwined like the delicate webbing on a spider's hardest labor, eternally raining down in the most luscious, beautiful snow. The kind of snow that isn't snow at all, as it isn't cold, nor chrystalline. The kind of snow that is known as ash. And as Claude walked slowly through the beautiful forest, he felt as though he were truly at peace. All sorts of threads, gorgeous spider threads, were hanging from the leaves as if it were natural - like tinsel, as they glimmered beautifully in the light of the moon._

Claude awoke to the feeling of someone gently shaking him, while in his subconscious he heard, "Mr. Faustus? I thought to myself... it is unlike you to sleep in!" The ravenette drowsily opened his eyes to be greeted by a smiling Mr. Keinz, and he reached forward, before ruffling the orange hair in a sort of playful manner.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Are you feeling well, Mr. Faustus?" Drocell asked, cocking his head slightly. The older male nodded, yawning, and he sat upright to grab his glasses off of the nightstand.

"Yeah, Drocell, I'm fine," he said. "Alois had me up late playing with him again."

"It's so nice that you do that for him," Drocell said, standing up again and going to get dressed. "I thought to myself, Alois needs it more than the others, even though he's nearing the age where he will leave."

Claude sighed, and slid out of bed, before heading to his respective wardrobe to also get changed. "How's Shakespeare this morning?" Claude asked.

"I heard him squawking early in the morning again. Around six," Drocell said. "But when I went to check, I saw Sebastian talking to him to calm him down, and it was working really well."

"Sebastian was always rather impressive when it came to animals," Claude said, before adding, "except for dogs. He doesn't like dogs."

"I thought, he really likes cats," the younger male noted. Claude laughed.

"Oh, definitely. A stuffed animal cat was one of his first birthday presents from Mr. Tanaka, and I think he _still_ has it," the ravenette replied. The other gave a small, almost robotic chuckle, and Claude smiled at him. "I'm going to head out now. I'll get breakfast started, if Elizabeth or Paula haven't beaten me to it."

"All right, Mr. Faustus, thank you," Drocell answered, giving a small wave as the other left.

Claude walked out into the hallways, noting that it was still surprisingly quiet, considering it was late in the morning. He walked into the kitchen humming quietly, when something outside of the normal routine occured. He was grabbed, and yanked down to the floor, landing painfully and hitting his head against the cabinet. He groaned, sorely rubbing his head, then looked over at the one who had pulled him down, blinking in confusion when he saw Alois.

"You bloody git, you'll ruin the surprise!" the blond hissed.

"What surprise?" Claude murmured.

"It's Ciel's birthday!" Alois whisper-yelled. The ravenette quieted immediately, and peered around the corner, before turning back to Alois. "How long have you and the others been waiting?" he asked.

"Sebastian started it. He woke us all up at five thirty to wait for Ciel - after all, Ciel's usually a light sleeper," Alois answered.

"_Five thirty?_ That was three and a half _hours_ ago," Claude protested.

"Yeah, but we couldn't let Ciel come out before us, now could we?" the blond answered.

"Both of you, shut up," came Sebastian's voice from the dining room. "I just heard our door."

There was a pause.

"I thought to myself, _what_ is going on?"

"That wasn't your door, Sebastian, that was _mine!_ Drocell! Over here! We're surprising Ciel!"

"I thought... why?"

"It's the fourteenth!"

"... Oh! I thought to myself, that's his birth-"

"Shut up; I _mean_ it this time!"

Another pause, and at last-

"Happy Birthday, Ciel!" everyone cheered as the young male walked into the room. Sound exploded into the previously silent room, and moments after it had done so, Sebastian placed a cake sporting a frosting rabbit with an eyepatch on the table, and slid it, candles lit, towards the startled teen.

_"God, _you guys," Ciel sighed, before blowing out the sixteen candles as custom dictated. "I was wondering what the hell was going on in here. You never cease to go over-the-top, Sebastian."

The red-eyed male laughed lightly. "If I couldn't pull off a surprise birthday party for my young lord, then what kind of butler would I be?" On that note, he sliced up the cake for Ciel and transferred a piece onto a plate.

Claude was a little impressed by how tolerant everyone was with the cute little eyepatch on the rabbit on the cake. The eyepatch mirrored the one that Ciel now wore daily, after a severe dog attack in his junior year. Sebastian had been the one to rush Ciel to the nearest hospital, and Claude arrived soon after, having received a great deal of alarming phone calls. The dog had gouged out Ciel's right eye, however - a memory that was certain to scar both him and Sebastian from ever being fond of canines.

It had been a year since the dog attack, though, and Ciel actually made jokes referencing the incident nowadays.

Sebastian himself was as tall as Claude, and like hell he looked like the seventeen-year-old he really was. His dress had matured into a low-cut shirt and coat, as well as beige or black trousers. Around Ciel, he played the 'butler' game that they'd come up with years ago, but with others, he was generally quiet, polite, and withdrawn. Claude was glad that Sebastian remained open to him, though. At the least, the young man was always quite friendly.

Everyone received a small portion of the large cake, except for Claude, who preferred to make his own breakfast and let the kids have their fun. As he returned to the table where Ciel, Sebastian and Alois were eating, he asked, "Anyone dream last night?"

The three nodded, and Sebastian said, "I dreamt about Ciel, and how today would play out." Claude chuckled.

"Is it as you expected?" he questioned. The red-eyed male smiled widely.

"It's even _better_," he said.

"I don't dream much nowadays," Ciel commented. "And last time I did, it was one of those freaky dreams where a giant crow is taking you back to its nest to feed its chicks. It sucks."

"... I've had a few of those, too," Sebastian said after a long pause.

"I dreamt last night, too~," Alois announced. "It was like what Ciel just said... but I was a butterfly. Except I had no wings... and a spider had captured me in his web."

There was an awkward silence, before Claude spoke up, "Haunting dreams versus pleasant ones, frankly, I would prefer nightmares. Because you wake up from a nightmare thankful for your safety, while one often awakens from a pleasant dream wishing that it would come true."

"That's an intresting point," Sebastian commented. "Altough the fearful feelings in a nightmare can be quite bothersome." The yellow-eyed male shrugged.

"Sebby! Sebby!" came a familiar squawk as Drocell came to the table with Shakespeare on his arm. Sebastian chuckled, holding out his own, and the parrot immediately leapt on to his, to the amusement of many. Sebastian always seemed to be the only one who didn't need gear in order to have the excited bird perched on his arm. He was the only one capable of taking those talons. The young ravenette instantly struck up an Italian conversation with the parrot, occasionally being interrupted by an amused Drocell, and talk at the table settled to the normal chit-chat of breakfast, before Shakespeare suddenly burst into song.

_"Mr. Spears is falling down, falling down, falling down, Mr. Spears is falling down, my true master!"_

There was a silence, in which Claude whispered, "Drocell, _what_ did that bird just say?"

"I had thought that he wouldn't do that again," Drocell said, his eyebrows creased slightly in thought. "Shakespeare sang that to a neighbor of mine. Mr. Spears himself, as a matter of fact. I don't understand - he only sings things like that when he feels as though someone is very sad or angry. He sang it once for me, with 'Docee Keinz' in place of Mr. Spears. He was trying to cheer me up back then, but I don't know what this means right now."

"A couple days back, I saw Mr. Spears get angry at one of his employees and fire him," Claude sighed. "Perhaps that had something to do with it?"

"Quite possible," Drocell agreed. "Although, he doesn't normally focus on it."

"Wow, Drocell," Alois giggled. "That bird is as weird as you! You two _were_ made for each other!"

Claude sighed.

* * *

_Later..._

"Claude, I have a question," Alois murmured, his head resting on the ravenette's shoulder.

"Mm hm?"

"Do you think I'm weird?" the blond asked. Claude gave a small chuckle.

"_No_, Alois," he said gently. "You're a very unique one, but you shouldn't be called 'weird.' You're friendly, open-minded, not stereotypical nor a liar. I can see you being a wonderful person with an artistic occupation not long from now. Because Alois, you're _brilliant_."

The blond blushed, before nuzzling into Claude's shoulder and hugging him. "_Thanks_, Claude...," he murmured, before standing up and heading back towards the room that he shared with Luka Macken, a younger boy (about eleven or twelve years old) with brown hair and eyes who often stayed in their room, reading. Claude rather wished the boy would come out more often - he kept having to check in the room to make sure Luka was still there.

Claude got off of the couch and walked over to where Sebastian was trying to tutor Ciel on his Calculus homework. The young ravenette smiled at Claude while Ciel tried to figure out a problem, and the yellow-eyed male smiled right back. Claude continued into the kitchen, where he met up with Paula.

"Paula, when did you come in this morning?" he inquired.

"Around nine," she answered. "Sorry - I was having some car trouble. I tried calling, but when no one picked up, I assumed Ciel's party was going on and you couldn't hear it ring."

"Yes, quite likely," Claude admitted. "You know what it's like for a birthday here."

She laughed. "Yes, I do." The ravenette left the kitchen again, and this time headed back to his room to rest.

* * *

_That evenening..._

Claude was heading through the halls of the orphanage with a candle held in his hand, making sure that no one was still up (after all, Sebastian tended to be a hassle when it came to bedtime. It was the one time he was ever difficult - and because of that, Claude occasionally had to wonder if the boy was nocturnal). He walked into the living room where a blanket was draped over Shakespeare's cage so that the parrot could rest, before continuing through the dining room. After checking to make sure no one was loitering about, he turned back, and began walking back towards his own room, when he heard a small creak. He sighed.

"Get back in your room. It's so foolish to think that I can't hear the door open," he muttered, turning to face the offender. Alois was standing there, a guilty look on his face.

"Sorry, Claude...," he whispered. "I wanted a story."

"Alois...," Claude murmured. "You're _sixteen_. And it's getting late, too..."

"I _know_, but...!" Alois protested, looking a little flustered. "It's not just me! Luka, too!"

"Luka is _also_ a bit old for that luxury," Claude sighed, but he started heading back towards the blond's room. He slipped inside with the blond, and sat down on the floor, giving a small smile as the two sat down before him with eager looks on their faces. "_Honestly_, you two," Claude sighed, pushing up his glasses as he shook his head. "How many years have I done this for you?"

"Almost ten for me!" Alois said with a lopsided grin. As Luka started to count on his fingers, Claude sat back, and thought.

"Do you want to hear something real? How about when Ciel joined us?"

"No, we've heard that one!" Luka whined.

Claude chuckled. "All right, then. I'll play it by ear.

"A long time ago, before judgement, people were allowed to live and love freely," Claude began. "Woman and man, man and man, woman and woman. Everyone accepted a common belief - that all was equal, and that no one was better than the next, regardless of social status. The world was peaceful. But one day, _judgement_ invaded the world, brainwashing the human beings and giving them each a set of beliefs that they would advocate. Beliefs that each of them thought _had_ to be right, and they suddenly wanted everyone else to share their values. Some people began to hate other people - hate those with different ideas than their own. The world split into groups, divided, and starting to fight. It became chaos. Religious wars, racism, and other discriminations became common traits, breaking everyone apart from the next."

"Sounds like the world today," Alois muttered, a repulsed look on his face. Claude reached out and ruffled the other's hair.

"Precisely," he whispered.

"But someone's gonna save it, right?" Luka murmured. "Someone's gonna bring people back together?"

"I don't know," Claude answered, before leaning back. "... Dang, sorry, that was a pretty short 'story,' huh?"

"... Are you saying you're _done?!"_ Alois complained, a pouting look on his face. "Claude, that's _horrible!_ I'm taking over. Stay here." The ravenette smiled, and the blond began, "Sure's hell the world wasn't gonna stay in total disorder for long, right Luka?"

"Yeah!" the the brunette laughed, throwing up his arms to cheer.

_"That's_ right," Alois said, getting to his feet. Claude watched in surprise as the boy began to recount the tale of how no mortal man was intelligent enough to bring the world back into harmony. Alois spoke as if he had been there when an angel descended from the sky - an angel named Swan. She had no wings, no halo, but she was still immortal, and man couldn't affect her. Even though she was nothing like what man had conjured, she was still beautiful. Not man, not beast, but a gorgeous creature like none they had ever seen before.

About three minutes later, Claude noticed that the door had been cracked open, and Ciel, Sebastian, Drocell and Elizabeth were listening intently as young Alois told the story. The male was incredibly animated. He spoke at the top of his voice, giving gestures, even hopping onto the beds for emphasis at times. He explained that Swan took judgement back from man, and turned it into _acceptance_, letting them keep their distinct beliefs, but also giving them the power to tolerate the beliefs that others held.

In total, the story lasted fifteen minutes, but it seemed to have gone by in seconds. As he gave the story the traditional 'happily ever after' ending, he found the entire room live with applause.

Claude was impressed. He'd never seen a young man such as this speak with such enthusiasm and drama, and seeing Alois that night had been-

Something stopped him, and he felt a memory replay in his mind. No, he _had_ seen that enthusiasm and drama. He _had_ seen it before.

_A red-haired boy was standing up to a bully at school - the aggressive teenager was in Claude's senior year, while the redhead was still a freshman. "You back down, you cruel man!" the boy shouted, stomping a high-heeled foot against the ground. "How _dare_ you say such horrid words to my darling Angelina! She's as sweet as women come, and she has been my savior from tragedy of all sorts!" He then prodded the male square on the chest, his lips drawn back in a snarl that made his teeth appear to be like those of a shark's, and the red-hair that reached the center of his back was akin to a flame as he moved. "The next time you have the _gall_ to even _think_ that she's alone, you'll be answering to me, you no-good, pigheaded menace!" With that, the younger male had stood up straight, and strode off in a huff._

Something about him kind of reminded Claude of his mother.

That was _him_. That was the man who had been so poorly treated by Mr. Spears! Claude looked at Alois, the tiniest trace of worry clouding his expression. Alois was a flame just like that man, and he was burning at his brightest at this very moment. It was beautiful - his passion, his happiness, his defiance towards whatever could put him down...

That redheaded man and Alois Trancy were the same.

And Claude wanted to preserve _both_ flames for as long as he could, but every candle went out someday. There would always be a cruel person to try and snuff out the brilliance in another.

But still, the ravenette would do his best to save it from happening.

No matter how little the power he held was.

**-End Chapter**

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All right! Who's on the verge of virtual-punching me to find out about Grell?

Review for a quick update! I'm on Thanksgiving break now~ :D


	13. Claude's Desire: To Guide

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 3: To Guide

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_~Grell Sutcliff~_

It was a week after Grell had been fired.

He'd only left the apartment once, to sell his car since he knew he couldn't possibly manage to pay for it now. His lack of eating had caused him to lose a worrying amount of weight, and his skin was now a sickly pale. He looked like a living corpse, with a dead look in his eyes and the rotting away of his soul. Every day he withered further, and moved less. Even Truth was starting to look thin. Nightmares were just part of the cycle, and they came whenever he so much as closed his eyes. He was so sick of staring at the ceiling that finding new shapes within the molding was just about impossible. His vision was always blurred, as he no longer bothered to put on his glasses. After all, he was always in bed... and besides, they reminded Grell of _him_.

_Of the snake in human skin._

The suffering was like a deep cut within his chest. He wanted to forget it ever happened, but it was always there. Always persisting, always hurting, always telling Grell that he was alone.

But only minutes later, a miracle happened.

Pushed down, deep inside him was the wild, feminine man who had once stood up for himself, for his sisters, and for his life. That man was supposed to never return - but in the depth of that sorrow, he had been pulled back. For when Mr. Spears carved his heart from his body, he revealed the hidden, second heart that had been locked away by society.

And that heart, which had long ago stopped beating, suddenly gave a small pulse. A tiny move, one that even ached a bit, but it put a stray thought into Grell's mind.

_Get help._

And some part within Grell insisted that he _did _need that help. That he _did_ need to get someone to bring life back into him. That he _did _need someone to reinvigorate him, to give that second heart a fighting chance at replacing the one which had been crushed.

And he kind of wanted to believe that replacing his broken heart was possible.

The redhead stood, and walked to a red desk, where he turned on a computer. Truth begged for food at his ankles, and he reached down, gently petting the cat's head. "Don't worry, hun," he whispered. "Once I find someone, I'll get you something, okay?"

The feline rubbed against him, and Grell gave a weak smile. Perhaps he really was doing the right thing. He pulled up an internet page, and searched for a counselor in their town. What he found was a sort of weakly put together page with the following information:

_"Hello, whomever this page concerns. I am known as Undertaker. And whether it be a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold yours, or just an ear to led, I'm here for you. Now, I know I may seem odd, but I've spent a great deal of time as a psychiatrist, and I'm only as strange as the unique people who come to me. Don't be afraid, my dear, as there is nothing to fear if you're with me. I don't bite, but I might accidentally scratch, yet there's nothing about me to hurt you. All I want to do is give you whatever help you need, so feel free to e-mail me, and I'll see you as soon as I possibly can."_

There was his signature, as well as an e-mail address which Grell copied. He went to his e-mail, and quickly pasted the address into the _'To:_' section, and, ignoring the _'subject_,' he began to type.

_'Mr. Undertaker, I could really use your kindness. I suppose the word might be depressed, but really, I'm not sure what's wrong with me... if you can, please reply when possible, because I could really use your help soon. -Sincerely, Ms. Grell Sutcliff'_

After sending the short message, Grell stood, and headed downstairs, Truth following quickly behind him. He walked into his kitchen, and pulled a bag of cat food from the cupboard, filling up his cat's food dish and water. The cat purred as if to thank him, before starting on her meal, and Grell gave a small smile, when he felt a small rumble in his stomach. He cringed, but ignored it, instead going back upstairs.

To his surprise, he found that Mr. Undertaker had already replied to him. He sat down once more at his desk, and opened the e-mail.

_'Miss Grell,_

_'Thank you for your formality, but it isn't neccessary. Now, you can come in whenever possible - preferably today. My office is right next to the flower shop on Rose Petal Avenue, presuming you're in the neighborhood. Thanks again for your time, Miss Grell, and I hope to see you soon.'_

Grell didn't know what to do. He didn't have a choice anymore. He _had_ to go - at least, that's what it felt like. And something within him told him to leave at that very moment. He hurriedly got dressed, brushed out his hair (which took a _lot_ longer than he wanted it to), and was out of the apartment faster than he thought possible. He walked down the streets with the smallest trace of eagerness, wobbly to be in his high heels after nearly two weeks. He felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, and now, he was going to try and find his way, even though he was still trying to recover from the cold, numb sensation over his entire body. Not to mention the blur in his vision (though that had been caused by his deciding not to wear his glasses). Before he knew it himself, he was standing in front of the black door with the golden plaque bearing the words _'Therapy and Guidance - The Undertaker.'_ And suddenly, a wave of nervousness washed over him. What if Mr. Undertaker was just like everyone else? What if he turned Grell away? What would he do, then?

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Grell yelped as he was pulled in by the wrist. Roughly, he was pulled into another room, where he could hardly see a thing. He had a small panic attack as he landed against someone else and the door closed behind him, leaving only the dim light of candles inside the place behind. His hand was held in another's, and he felt another arm around his waist, and subconsciously, he also felt a small movement. The other stepped to the side, and Grell clumsily followed, squinting to try and see the other's face. _Damn_, he should've put on his glasses.

"Calm down, now," the other said, stepping back slowly. Grell awkwardly stepped forward, and found himself led to a couch, where he was pushed down. "_There_ we are," the man whispered. "Nice and comfy!"

"Um, excuse me, who are you?" Grell asked.

"Ehehe," was his only answer. He then gasped as the whole room was washed over with light, and he looked to the door, to see that a man with black hair had flipped on the light. "Was that you, Lau?" the other man said, looking towards the door. "Shoo, now, assistant, I have business to attend to."

"Yes, sir," said the ravenette, before leaving. Grell looked back to the male who had sort-of danced with him, and took in the whole of the man's appearance. He was enshrouded with a black cloak and wore a dark top hat, the clear reason why it had been so hard for the redhead to see the other. Silver hair fell messily over his shoulders and down his back, the bangs so long they covered the other's eyes. His nails were long and looked as though they'd been painted black, and the eerie smile on the other's face had Grell a little concerned.

"Greetings, Miss Grell," said the male. "How are you, m'dear?"

"Wh- what do you mean, _'how am I'?_ Who-," the redhead then cut himself off, before saying, "Are you Mr. Undertaker?"

"Again with that _dreadful_ formality of yours, m'dear!" the other said. "Just call me Undertaker, 'kay? Anyway, Miss Grell, I believe you have a question to answer."

"I was fine, until _you_ yanked me inside!" Grell protested.

"Ehehe! Ah, but would you have come in if I hadn't done so?" the silverette giggled. "That was the first exercise!"

"Huh?"

"Got rid of all of your shyness and got to know you better all at once," Undertaker said. "I'd say exercise one was a success~"

"_Hmph!_ You were awfully touchy with me, too! I'll have you know that I rather hate to be manhandled," Grell pouted, folding his arms.

"So sorry, m'dear," the silverette sighed, before continuing, "but I must say, you feel _quite_ thin. When was the last time you ate?"

All of his pain returned anew, and Grell bit his lip as fresh tears welled up in his eyes. "About seven or eight days ago," he whispered.

"What? That's no good at all!" Undertaker said, before sitting down in a chair and taking a jar off of the table beside it. "You're going to starve, Miss Grell, and I simply cannot allow that," he announced, taking off the jar and producing what appeared to be a bone-shaped cookie. "Eat this, darling," Undertaker said, holding the cookie towards Grell. The redhead reluctantly took it, and sniffled, before taking a bite. While it was a good treat, it was almost tasteless in the presence of his tears, and he ate the entire thing with a frown. He couldn't help but notice that his quiet sniffles brought a sad look to Undertaker's face, as well. "There, now, I know that's not much," Undertaker sighed, "maybe we can get lunch later or something, because you need to put on some weight, Miss Grell. Now, what happened to make you so down?"

"... It all began when I turned sixteen."

Before he knew it, everything was coming out. His pain, his fear, his lonliness - everything. From the letter from Rachel, the day when Angelina left, the death of his parents... From his break-up with Hannah, getting fired from Pluto's, getting turned down by Eric...

And he completely crumbled when it came to the most recent event.

He had long buried his face in his hands, and the tears streaking down his face had wetted his clothes. "H-he seemed so _nice_, Undertaker," he whispered. "He wasn't _anything_ like what people had told me. And he was handsome, at that! Oh, he was s-_so_ handsome! And then, there was this _sweet_ young boy named Ronald Knox. He was so kind to me, and he p-promised me that Wi-William would love me back! He_ promised!_ But you see... I didn't know, but Knoxie loved William, too. He was just plottting so that I'd give up! And when I confessed... Will... he hit me, Undertaker. Hit me, fired me, and said some really mean things, too! It was so horrible...!"

The redhead whimpered, and leaned into the touch of a hand that was placed on his shoulder. He looked up, meeting what should have been the counselor's eyes, and watched as the other stretched an arm out, groping around a bit before he found a box of tissues. After pulling out a tissue, Undertaker reached up, and gently wiped at the tears streaking down Grell's face, as he said softly, "Don't worry, Miss Grell. It's all in the past now. _None_ of that is who you are today. Because, today, the beautiful person standing before me is one who deserves respect, love, and care. You're someone who deserves to be cared for as the gorgeous human being you are."

"... Undertaker, do you know what I really am?" Grell questioned, arching a brow. After all, Undertaker had dodged regarding him as a male in any sense, and it was making him feel a little odd inside.

"According to most, you're a male transgender who is merely their bother," Undertaker said. "But if you ask _me_ - or the few people who know the _important_ things in life, then you'll hear that you're a wonderful soul who is bound to charm and seduce others with your prowess and inner abilities. You might not even know it yourself, but you're truly special, Miss Grell Sutcliff."

"... Thank you," Grell whispered. His heart was pounding, seeking further comfort, and he leaned in, with the full intentions to peck the silverette's lips, when a black nail tapped him gently on the lower lip.

"No, Miss Grell. Thank _you_," Undertaker said in a gentle tone. "But a kiss is not the answer. I'm not the one for you, m'dear, as much as it pains me to say so."

Grell felt a flash of rage. "Why the hell _not?"_ he said in a surprisingly whiny voice.

"Several unfortunate reasons," Undertaker murmured. "First and foremost, it's my strict motto to not date my patients. Second, because you truly don't need physical affection, darling. You need the _emotional_ connection. You need someone to say that they care about you. If I were to let you fall into the trap of using the pleasantries of touch to relieve your lonliness, I'd be a horrible man. You might think that it helps you feel good about yourself, but really, it has the opposite. Grell, you need to have someone love you for who you are, not how you look. Do you understand me, m'dear?"

The redhead was silent for a moment. "You _would_ love me for who I am," he whispered. Undertaker gently patted his head.

"Yes, m'dear. I would. But there are some things that just aren't meant to be," he said. "There are things about me that would hurt you. I want you to find a man out there who loves you for who you are, who finds you physically attractive, who _won't_ hurt you. And I promise, Miss Grell, it will happen for you. It'll happen soon - _very_ soon. It seems like false comfort, I know. Everyone who you've brought it up to has told you the same thing. But they aren't me, m'dear. You can trust my judgement. Your time will come soon."

Grell felt his eyes watering again, but this time, it was something completely different, because he didn't feel lost anymore. He felt as though Undertaker was telling him the truth, and he felt as though he could rely on the silverette, even if it was for guidance and support instead of romance. He leaned in, and the counselor allowed him a hug. Grell rested his head on the other's shoulder and hugged him close, his fingers clutching the other's cloak as if fearful that the other would slip through them like smoke.

"Thank you," he said once more. "Thank you for everything."

"Mr. Undertaker?" came the voice of the black-haired male from earlier. "Uh... it's been two hours, sir!"

"Ehehe~ Oh, my, it would seem as though we've used up twice the time I anticipated," Undertaker giggled, his nails gently scratching at the redhead's back. "That's odd, I don't often lose track of the time... Thank you, assistant, we'll be out soon!"

"I have a name, sir!"

Grell gave a small giggle, before winking at Undertaker. "So, are you like that with _him,_ then?" he asked with a trace of bitterness. Undertaker laughed.

"No, no, m'dear. He just helps me around," he said. "I'm getting old."

"Impossible, you're too gorgeous!" Grell said.

"Oh, no, m'dear, if you knew how old I was, you'd run away screaming," Undertaker mumbled, before standing. He took a couple of steps towards a desk, and soon picked up a cane, before heading back towards the door. "Come now, m'dear. I believe I promised you lunch."

"What? Really?" Grell murmured.

"Yeah, c'mon!" Undertaker said, before whispering something to his 'assistant.'

"Yes, sir," said the other - Lau, was it? - before packing up a couple things.

"Um, Undertaker?" Grell said. "Are you sure that it's okay? You don't have any appointments right now?"

"Nope," the silverette said. "I try to keep things open from eleven to one so that I can take a nice lunch break - a break which you, m'dear, have already cut into." Grell batted his eyelashes, giving a sheepish smile as the two (technically three, as Lau was following) of them left the building. "How does Pluto's sound, m'dear?" Undertaker asked, searching the ground with his cane as they came to a crosswalk.

"Good, I suppose... by the way, how much should I pay for that session?" Grell questioned. As the two crossed the street, Undertaker gave his reply.

"That first appointment is on the house, m'dear, if you'll be treating me to lunch," Undertaker giggled.

"What? It was your suggestion!" Grell protested. "... But I'll accept it since you aren't charging for the appointment, I guess."

"Hehehe, very good, Miss Grell," the silverette laughed, before hanging back to speak to his assistant again. Grell glanced back at him, silently pondering the sight. He knew that something was up - he simply couldn't place his finger on it. But he forgot the train of thought as Undertaker took his arm and led him along, all the way up to Pluto's, where Lau got the door for the both of them.

"Grell! It's been way too long!" Pluto barked as the two entered, before pausing to sniff Undertaker. "Huh? Who's this? Don't tell me, Grell, it's finally happened for y-"

"We'd just like a table," Undertaker cut in. "Thank you."

Grell sighed, leaning slightly against the other's arm. "Cruel," he murmured. Undertaker placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not the one, m'dear. Already told you."

"Who'd like to fetch these two a table?" Pluto called to his employees. Aleister Chambers started towards the two, incoherent words bubbling out of his mouth at the sight of Grell, before they abruptly stopped and a shocked look overcame his features. He looked the redhead over once more, then groaned.

"Oh, it's _you_," he muttered. "Make Agni get him," he said. "I won't be serving this gender-confused fellow today, Pluto!"

Grell's counselor gave his shoulder a small squeeze. "Remember, there are those who know what the _important_ things in life are," he whispered. "I don't quite believe he is one of them."

As he spoke, Agni stepped forth, and gave a small bow. "Follow me, gentlemen," he said. The waiter led the three to a table, and handed each menus, although Lau grabbed Undertaker's and simply put it over his own.

As Agni left to get their drinks, Lau whispered, "So, Undertaker, what do you want?"

"Ehehe, I'll just take whatever Miss Grell is having," the silverette said. "And Miss Grell, don't eat too much, or you could all too easily upset your stomach. All right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Grell sighed, looking over the menu. "I'll probably have the same thing I had last time I was here. There was this really good dish they called curry bread..."

"Hmm~ Sounds good to me," Undertaker said, leaning back in his seat.

"Here you are," Agni said, placing everyone's drinks on the table. "And have you decided on what to eat today?"

"Curry bread for me~ It was so _wonderful_ the last time I had it," Grell ordered.

"I'll have what she's having," Undertaker added.

"Stir fry for me," Lau said with a grin. Agni returned the smile.

"Excellent choices," he said, before striding away once more.

"The only thing I'm not too fond of at Pluto's is the wait," Grell sighed a couple minutes later.

"Well, m'dear, you could try a visual exercise to pass the time," Undertaker said. "Always works for me." Lau snickered, but the silverette quickly elbowed him to shut him up.

"Visual exercise, hm?" Grell hummed.

"Yes. Close your eyes, and imagine being somewhere special," the counselor said.

"... Like that creek I used to go by when I was little?" Grell said, smiling slightly.

"Sure," Undertaker said. "Now, you can hear the running water. You can feel the crisp air on your skin, and the icy water running between your fingers. The moss-slick rocks are slippery, slimy, and the trees are rustling with the wind. Can you picture that?"

"It's _more_ than a picture," Grell breathed.

"That's good, m'dear," Undertaker said, smiling. "Just escape there for a while. I won't be talking, though. I want you to hear the birds."

The redhead went into a small trance of sorts, and Undertaker sighed contentedly, turning his head towards the kitchen. "Smells divine in there," he whispered to Lau.

"Think it's our food, sir?"

"Hehe, I can only hope."

In about ten minutes, Agni returned with their dishes, and the counselor promptly snapped his fingers, and Grell came back to earth. "Hehe, was that nice, m'dear?" Undertaker asked.

The redhead yawned, rubbing his eyes as he replied, "It feels like I just took a nap."

"Good, then, we'll do it more often," Undertaker said, feeling along the table before he found his a fork and knife. Lau guided him to the bun of food on his dish, and the three began on their meals.

"You know, Undertaker, you'd probably see a lot better if your bangs weren't in your eyes all the time," Grell sighed.

"Is that so?" the silverette giggled.

Lunch was pleasant, minus the fact that Undertaker kept barking at Grell to slow down and enjoy the food more so that he wouldn't be sick from it. Grell found out a bit more about Lau, that he had a sister named Ran Mao and that he used to work at the flower shop right next door to Undertaker's building. Apparently, the silverette had made quite a comical show of hiring him, too. Grell also learned that Undertaker didn't have many patients at all in this town - as a matter of fact, the redhead was the first to seek him out since he moved in a couple months back.

"I don't mean to sound at all prude or selfish," Undertaker sighed, "but I'd kind of been hoping that lovely orphanage down on the west side would bring in more business. After all, my office is right between them and the school, and, well, I can't let Lau keep buying my meals."

"Hmm~ I should visit that place sometime," Grell considered.

"Hehe, perhaps so, Miss Grell, perhaps so..."

After lunch, the redhead bid Undertaker farewell, with the agreement to meet up again next week - this time for a price.

Grell's mood had been lifted, even without gaining a partner in life. He was starting to love himself again, just as he had years ago, before people began to harass him.

Best of all, he didn't feel alone anymore.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

Heehee~ You better thank me for this fast upload. :P It was fun to write, though, what with Undertaker and all~...

You see the box. You know what to do. X3


	14. Claude's Desire: Tease, Help

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 4: Tease, Help

**Author's Note:** After reading through my chapter plans, I decided that chapter four was going to end up too short, so I decided to combine chapters four and five of Claude's Desire. So, as domino effect signifies, this arc will be nine chapters, and the third arc is going to end up as eleven chapters to compensate. :)

* * *

_~Claude Faustus~_

Six days later (after Grell's appointment) found Claude once more in the kitchen. Sebastian was cooking beside him for Ciel, a very pleased look on his face. "How was school today?" Claude asked.

"Splendid," Sebastian said. "I aced my Calculus test - although, I wish I could say the same for Ciel. Alois and I made pasta in cooking class - which reminds me, Mr. Aberline told me to say hello to you for him. A heads-up - tomorrow, Ciel and I have to stay after school for orchestra practice. Our concert is on December thirtieth - that'll be in a little less than a week. I got another A on my Chemistry test, and we will be writing up a long paper on the history of London in January, to which I welcome with a sarcastic, _'oh joy.'"_

"Does anything _ever_ go wrong for you?" Claude sighed.

"Actually, yes," Sebastian sighed. "Ciel made me go to get a book for him, and I missed the bus home."

"Really?" Claude said, before chuckling, "sorry, but... I didn't even notice." Sebastian smiled, rolling his eyes.

"Who ever does?" he murmured. "Ciel's always pulling this sort of thing anyway. It keeps life exciting."

"Heh, I suppose it does...," Claude noted, before leaning over the other's shoulder and sniffing at the meal he was working on. "Way to outshine me _again_, Sebastian, you're going to make all of the children jealous of Ciel," the older male laughed. "I don't even know how you cook - it's like magic."

"I do my best~," Sebastian answered with a smirk. "Ciel always demands it of me, after all. Sometimes I fear I'm spoiling him."

"You've been spoiling him since the day he came here," the yellow-eyed male replied. "I'm surprised he still shows a decent amount of respect for you, Sebastian." The younger male gave a small blush.

"Of course he does...," he whispered in a fond tone. "If he lost all of his respect for me... well, I wouldn't serve him."

"It's nice, whatever you two have," Claude said as he poured soup into bowls. "It's a very strong friendship. I didn't have that when I was your age."

"Oh? Yes, you _did_, Mr. Faustus," Sebastian said, glancing up at the older male. "Don't tell me you've forgotten Mr. Tanaka?"

Claude closed his eyes for a moment. "How could I forget him?" he whispered. "No. Father will always be here." He reached up, placing a hand over his heart, before saying, "I... I meant... I never had anyone _my_ age."

"Mm," the red-eyed male hummed, before coming in and wafting the steam from Claude's soup towards himself. "He taught you to cook very well," he whispered. "You have the perfect blend of salty and savory, while also giving a generous amount of nutrition in your meals, as well. Taste doesn't compare to health, Mr. Faustus."

Claude gave a weak smile. "Thank you."

The two came into the dining room and set plates of food before everyone, Paula taking a few other dishes to some of the younger children. As Claude sat down at the table, he looked to Ciel. "So, not so good on the Calculus test, huh?" The younger male glared at Sebastian.

"Did you have to tell him?" he muttered. Sebastian shrugged.

"Well, he had to find out _sometime_, m'Lord," he said. "Especially because it's my fault you do so horrible. Sometimes I wonder if wearing a paper bag over my head would help you focus..."

"Yeah, yeah, so I got a bad grade. Big deal, it's not like we're ever going to use this stuff," Ciel muttered, blushing at the slightly suggestive tone in the ravenette's voice.

"That's not true, Ciel, _every_ sort of math skill can be used in everyday life," Claude castigated. "Shopping, taxes, and especially if you do work on buildings or furniture." He couldn't help but notice how the other rolled his eyes, and he sighed.

"I don't mean to spoil...," Sebastian said, "but it was my Lord's plan to start work here when he graduated."

_"Sebastian!"_ Ciel protested.

"Sorry, m'Lord, it seemed appropriate to tell him," the red-eyed male sighed.

"Is it true, Ciel?" Claude asked, leaning in. "You're going to stay here?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ciel mumbled, looking away. "But only because Sebastian doesn't want to leave you alone." Claude gave the red-eyed male a smirk, and Sebastian laughed sheepishly.

He chuckled, "_I_ didn't put it that way."

"Oh- and how was your day, Alois?" Claude asked.

The blond was playing with his food, and his answer was hushed as he mumbled, "Fine." Now this, was _very_ out of the normal for Alois.

"... Alois?" Claude murmured. "What's wrong?" The other shook his head, a small tremble in his movement.

"Some kids were picking on him earlier," Ciel said. "I don't know everything, but apparently, Alois tried to hit one and he got sent to the principal's office."

"That's not it!" Alois cried, looking up at the other boy. "They were being so mean! I had the right to hit them, but no one else thinks so!"

"Alois, what did they say?" Claude asked in a gentle tone. The blond fell silent again, so Ciel once more answered for him.

"Some crap about his girliness."

"... Alois," Claude sighed. "Don't believe whatever they're saying, because it's not-"

"You're not always right, though!" Alois suddenly shouted. The entire room fell silent as Alois stood, tears hanging in his eyes. "I want to believe everything you say, but even you aren't always right, Claude! You don't know the horrible things they said to me! You don't understand! _None_ of you understand!" The blond ran away at that, accidentally bumping into Mr. Keinz (and promptly shoving him aside) before he made it into his room. Luka immediately slid out of his chair and started after Alois, but Claude stopped him.

"Luka, I'm going to have a private talk with him," Claude said. "I know he'd appreciate seeing you _more_, but... _I_ want to take care of him right now."

The brunette gave a small nod, and Claude continued on, helping an extremely confused Mr. Keinz get back on his feet before he reached the blond's room. He tried the door, only to find that it was locked._ Elizabeth was right_, he thought. _Locks on the doors weren't quite the best idea..._ He knocked instead.

"Alois?"

"Go away!" came the muffled voice from inside. "You don't understand anything!"

Claude sighed, and leaned against the wall, before saying quietly, "Alois, I was in a group of goof-offs when I went to high school. Every year, our title upgraded. From 'freak freshman,' 'sassy sophomores,' 'jerk juniors,' all the way to 'super-bully seniors.' We were cruel to upperclassmen and lowerclassmen, but worst of all, we were cruel to each other. We weren't even a united force. In my junior year, Ash asked to meet me outside of the principal's office at the passing period between our fourth and fifth classes." Alois cracked the door open slightly, watching Claude with big, bloodshot blue eyes as the ravenette recounted what had occurred. "Of course, I knew _he_ was being bullied, but I didn't think anything of it. After all, we hardly ever interacted anymore, so why should I have been worried about him? Well, just as I was approaching him in the hallways, he struck me in the jaw, right here," Claude said, touching his chin. "It was so hard and precise a blow that I was knocked out immediately, and I didn't feel the beating that came afterwards. Next thing I knew, I was awake at a hospital, sore, and Ash was there to apologize right from the start - of his own accord. He hugged me and apologized so quickly it sounded like a chant of sorts. He explained that he was trying to send a message to the bullies, and he said that what he had done made him feel sick to his stomach. When I told him that I would forgive him, he was honestly touched. I told him to let me forget this ever happened, and now, we act as though it never _did_ happen. So you see, Alois, bullying-"

"But that was _different!"_ Alois interrupted. "Ash was your friend, and-" Claude tapped the wall twice, and Alois quieted.

"No one knows what happened that day except him, myself, and you," he said. "Let me in so we can talk. This is ridiculous." The blond reluctantly allowed Claude into his room, and the ravenette sat down on Alois's bed. "Have they hit you?"

"No... but they keep saying they want to," Alois murmured. "And... and they keep calling me such horrible names, Claude! It _hurts!"_

"Shh, I know, Alois," Claude whispered, "but-"

"But _nothing!_ Do something, Claude. I don't want comfort anymore - I want vengeance!"

"That's not the answer, Alois, that'll just make it worse!" Claude said. Once more, Alois fell silent, hanging his head. The ravenette was actually a bit unsure as to what to say next. Alois was right - everything sounded like false comfort. And Claude knew he really ought to take action, but Mr. Randall wouldn't do anything - and if anything _did_ happen, speaking to him would _also_ make it worse. "I suppose you're going to have to learn how to stand up for yourself," Claude considered. Alois looked up at him, and for the first time in his life, Claude saw anger in the deep, blue eyes.

"How could you say that to me?" the blond hissed. "I've always trusted you - relied on you, and you think that because of that, I can't stand up for myself?"

"Alois, I didn't mean-"

"No! Enough talk," Alois said. "I'll show you! Tomorrow, when I come home from school, I'll tell you everything myself, and you'll see! I'll have handled them! Really!"

Claude took a deep breath, before coming in and hugging the younger male. "I believe in you, Alois," he murmured, "but don't get hurt."

"I won't," Alois mumbled, pushing away.

Seeing as there was no more room for further argument, Claude stood, and left.

* * *

_That night..._

"Drocell," Claude started, closing a book and setting it on the nightstand. "Alois is being bullied at school, and I'm not sure what I can do for him."

"Mm," the other considered, rolling over to face the ravenette from his bed. "Why not take him to a counselor?"

"A counselor?" Claude considered. "... Well, Mr. Randall wouldn't help him in the slightest."

"I know," Drocell answered. "I thought, Mr. Randall has never been very involved. However, I hear there is another psychiatrist in town."

"Huh? Oh! That 'Undertaker' place, right?" Claude said, glancing over at the orange-haired male. "Have you heard about them?"

"Not much," Drocell said. "... Actually, I haven't heard _anything_ about them..."

The ravenette gave a defeated sigh. "I suppose it _is _worth a shot," he murmured. "Mind if I turn out the lights?"

"I thought, that would be just fine."

* * *

_The next day..._

It had been a long day. The younger children had a day off, and they wanted to go to the park, so Claude, Paula and Elizabeth divided them up and took them out, and chasing after them all day to keep them inside the boundaries of the small park was an excruciating task. Then, later on, Shakespeare had 'gone missing,' and the whole staff (plus a great deal of children) went searching for him outside, only to find him swinging from a towel rack singing_ 'London Bridge'_ a few hours later. On top of that, Claude had been on his feet since dawn running errands and taking care of whatever needed taking care of, and he was damn exhausted.

It didn't help when Alois came home. The blond's hair was disheveled in an unnatural attempt to disguise a bruise on his forehead, and the sight of it made Claude wince. This had to stop.

"Alois?" he said in a gentle voice. The other sniffled. "Alois, let's go."

"To the school?" Alois asked quietly. "Are you going to beat them up for me, Claude?"

"No... there's a small business on the way to your school that I think can help," Claude murmured. He kept an arm around Alois's shoulder's and began to lead him out of the building, calling to Paula to start working on dinner. Claude took Alois's wrist, and started to lead him past Pluto's, and across the street in the direction of the flower shop. And he soon arrived in front of the Undertaker's office. But just as he reached out to open the door, it flung open, and standing there was a slightly hunched over male dressed all in black, with silver locks reaching his waist. The male placed a hand on Alois's head, then ran it down his shoulder's and waist, before chuckling.

"All right, you may come in, but your friend here...," he snickered. Claude tensed as both hands landed on his cheeks, teasingly pinched them, before roaming across his body in a way that was anything but intrusive. "Mm... Claude Faustus?" the silver-haired male wondered. "Is that you?"

"Uh- yes, actually," Claude said, a bit surprised.

"My, you're a lot taller than I thought you were," Undertaker said, before leading the ravenette into his humble shop. "I was a good friend of your late father Mr. Tanaka."

Claude's yellow eyes widened slightly. "Really? You knew Father?"

"Mm hm~ Now, what would be the trouble, gentlemen? You both seem _quiiite_ healthy!" the silverette said. Claude sighed, and placed a hand on Alois's shoulder.

"He's getting bullied at school, sir... and we both know the school counselor won't do anything to help his case," he whispered. Alois shamefully looked down.

"Oh, dear," Undertaker said, frowning slightly. "Come on in, child. Let's talk," he said, taking a cane that was leaning against the wall and going into another room. Claude started to follow, before Undertaker said, "Oh, no, Mr. Faustus. You stay out here. If this one wants you inside, then I'll come get you."

Claude sighed, and sat down, before taking out his cell phone. He called Sebastian, and was soon answered. ("Yes, Mr. Faustus?" came Sebastian's voice with the accomadation of a beautiful - and rather _loud_ - violin. "I'm in the middle of my solo, sir, can it wait?")

Not even wanting to know how Sebastian managed to perform a solo on his violin while talking on the phone, Claude said, "You and Ciel are going to have to walk home today. Alois's bullying problem has gotten worse, so I took him to see a psychiatrist."

The violin scaled up to a very high and fast rhythm, and Claude wondered for a moment if Sebastian hadn't heard him. But, reliable as always, the answer came. ("Very well," Sebastian said. "Then, I'll see you later.")

"Thanks, Sebastian," Claude said, before hanging up just as the other's solo came to a close.

Damn that child and his brilliance. It made Claude feel a bit unaccomplished.

A small creak alerted Claude to the opening of a door, and Claude glanced towards it to see the very red-haired male he'd thought of lately come inside. He looked a bit disheveled, as if he'd ran there - although, judging by the heeled shoes he was wearing, that wasn't quite an option. The redhead glanced at the closed door to the next room, greeted the assistant who was standing beside it, before his eyes rested on Claude. With a trace of reluctance, the other walked over and sat down beside Claude, murmuring "hello" as if he were afraid the ravenette would stand up and start beating him or something insane like that.

"Good afternoon," Claude greeted back. "What time is your appointment for?"

"Uh- it was for three-thirty, but I was running late...," the other mumbled. "Um... who's in there now?"

"Ah... he's with me," Claude said. "I run the orphanage down on the West side of town. Alois is one of the children there... and... well, the kids at school haven't been treating him too nicely..."

"Oh, the orphanage?" the other said, perking up slightly. "What's it like there?"

"It's a nice place," Claude answered. "A sort of father figure to me brought me to the orphanage when I was in high school, and I've been working there ever since. I'm Claude Faustus, by the way." Holding out his hand, Claude gave the other a gentle smile.

"Oh~ what a gentleman!" the other giggled, taking his hand. "My name is Grell Sutcliff."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Grell," Claude said, bringing the hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on it. Grell's eyes widened in shock, and Claude blushed slightly, wondering if he'd screwed up by doing that, but the notion was dashed when the other burst into giggles once more and took Claude's arm.

"I haven't seen a _real_ gentleman for ages," he whispered. "Thank you."

Claude gave a short sigh of relief. "So, what do you do for a living?" he asked.

"Me? Oh... um...," the other backed off of him, now looking a little flustered. "Well... well, I..." The incident that had occured between (that snob) Mr. Spears and this male suddenly came to mind, and Claude winced.

"Let me guess," he said. "Some bozos who don't know the _important_ things in life got you fired?" Grell looked at him in surprise once more, before breaking into a wide grin.

"Precisely."

Undertaker suddenly came out of his office for a moment, and called, "Miss Grell? Are you all right? Did you need to see me immediately?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Undertaker darling," Grell said. "Go ahead and take care of... Alois, was it?" Claude nodded. Undertaker's assistant leaned in and murmured something to him, and the silverette broke into a wide grin.

"Very good, miss. I'll see you later, then," he chuckled, before returning to Alois.

"He's a nice fellow, that Undertaker," Claude said. "Apparently, he knew my (adopted) father..."

Grell smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't be surprised. You kind of remind me of Undertaker. Your father taught you well, Claude."

"Thank you," the ravenette murmured. "That means a lot to me."

Conversation carried on between Claude and Grell, not dying until the moment where Alois returned into the room. "He's nice, Claude, can I see him again?" Alois questioned. Claude looked up at the silver-haired male questioningly.

"How much should I pay you?" he asked.

"First visit's on the house," Undertaker said. "Here on, twenty euros per appointment."

"Really? That's great!" Claude said with sort of dumbfounded expression. Undertaker giggled, before placing a hand on Grell's shoulder.

"Miss Grell," he greeted, before starting back into their room.

Grell gave Claude one last longing look, giving a wave and calling to him, "I'll see you again, Claude?"

Claude gave a small bow. "I'm certain of it, Grell," he said. "Have a nice day."

"You too~," was the last thing he heard from the red-haired male before the door closed. He glanced back at Alois and smiled.

"How was the appointment?" he asked. Alois gave a wide smile.

"He has the best cookies in his office, Claude," he giggled. "I mean... better than _Sebastian's!"_

"What? I don't think that's possible," Claude snickered.

"Anyway, who's this Grell person you were talking to?" Alois laughed. "You were certainly flirting it up with him!"

"Uh... just another of Undertaker's patients...," Claude trailed off. "We were just _talking..."_ The two started along their way, Alois elbowing the other male playfully in the arm as they headed back home.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

X3 That was fun. FINALLY, they MEET! MUAHAHA!

Review because you KNOW you're happy with meh!


	15. Claude's Desire: Better

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 5: Better

* * *

Grell gave Claude one last longing look, giving a wave and calling to him, "I'll see you again, Claude?"

Claude gave a small bow. "I'm certain of it, Grell," he said. "Have a nice day."

"You too~," Grell said before Undertaker shut the door to his office. "Oh, Undertaker, did you see him?! That man is so nice!"

"Ehehe! Indeed he is," Undertaker said. "No surprise there - he takes after his adopted father, Mr. Tanaka. How have you been, Miss Grell?"

"Oh,_ delightful!"_ Grell giggled. "After all these years, Angelina e-mailed me!"

"Really~?" the counselor considered as he sank into his chair. "What does she say?"

"Well... not much," the redhead sighed. "She says she's doing well with her husband, and she got a job at a clothes store - something I know she'll enjoy."

"Very good," Undertaker noted. "Will you be able to visit her sometime?"

"... I doubt it," Grell sighed. "I haven't the slightest clue where she lives - she's kind of prevented me from finding out. But... I'm glad she's safe, nonetheless."

The counselor giggled, as he gave a knowing nod. "Now tell me, dear, have you been eating all right? Nice and slow like I told you to?"

"Well... I've been getting better," Grell murmured. He explained that he'd been doing his best to keep his appetite up over the week, and that he had eaten some food, but not enough to stay healthy and continue putting on the weight that his body seriously needed. At the least, he was drinking enough water to get by, but his malnutrition still had Undertaker concerned. But the silverette knew how people worked, and, though it was against his morals, he decided to use a secret tactic.

"Don't you want to look nice for Claude?"

"Ah!" Grell gasped, slapping his hands over his mouth. "Undertaker! I _told _you not to go there!"

"Sorry, m'dear, but it was an appropriate time, wasn't it?" the counselor giggled. "Look, now, dear, I must insist that you eat healthy food, three meals a day - two, at the _very_ least - and eat at a steady pace as I've said before. After all, if you're all skin and bones, you can't do anything to impress him, now can you? Heehee!"

"Undertaker!" Grell said once more. "Stop it!"

"Well, jeez, m'dear, I told you your time would come, and now here is the handsome and charming Mr. Faustus. I dunno, but I'd rather like to play matchmaker with you," Undertaker giggled.

_"Stop,"_ Grell said again, this time in a quieter voice. The counselor fell silent, giving a solemn nod.

"I _know_ how many times you've been rejected," he said. "You've told me everything, Miss Grell. But like I said, it's no good of you to give up completely. It's clear to me that you want someone to spend your life with - that you want that more than anything else in the world, and the incident with Mr. Spears shouldn't be enough to hold you back."

"But it's not just Mr. Spears!" Grell protested. "Like you said, I've been turned down by more than one person. That Annafellows woman... Pluto... Eric... and Mr. Spears is just the most _recent_ one! Don't forget both of my sisters left home... left _me._"

"Miss Grell, as I've said before, that is _not_ who you are today," Undertaker murmured, standing and walking a bit clumsily to the redhead, before sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. As Grell nuzzled into his chest, the counselor whispered, "You're a caring, generous young man. You're loving, affectionate, and your feminine side is truly just part of your charm. Your time will come. I promise."

Grell sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah... okay...," he sighed. He cheered himself up again, and said, "On a better note, I ran into a highschool friend at the grocery store."

"Really~? Who?" Undertaker questioned with a grin.

"A darling boy named Finnian. He's super sweet, but a bit clumsy," Grell giggled. "The poor thing was a bit skiddish when I saw him, but he was still the cute little thing I remember from youth. Heehee!"

"Hehehe~ sounds like a charming fellow," Undertaker chuckled. "So that was a nice encounter?"

"Mm hm. The poor dear, though. Even after all these years, he still thinks I'm _truly_ a woman," Grell giggled.

"Hehe, how cute," Undertaker giggled.

"But... it's odd. I realized that he works at that lenscrafting company, too," the redhead murmured, suddenly solemn. "I must not have noticed him because I was so blinded by my emotions..."

"Do _not_ go back into that pitfall, m'dear!" Undertaker scolded as he stood and returned to his own chair. "Tell me, how's your lovely little cat? I do so wish to meet the sweet thing someday, she seems to have been _quiiite_ helpful to you!"

"Truth? Yeah, she's nice...," Grell said with a smile. "She's gained more weight than me - heehee! - but she's still a bit on the thin side."

"Fatten up that cat, Miss Grell, alongside yourself," Undertaker said. "From what I've seen, her health depends on yours, and we don't want anyone calling you on animal abuse."

Grell clenched his fists. "How _dare_ you!"

"Sorry, m'dear, I was being too honest again," the silverette giggled.

The redhead sighed, and lied down on the couch completely. "Undertaker, would you put me into a trance for a bit? I'm feeling kind of antsy... and you're so-called honesty isn't helping." The counselor grinned, and leaned back in his chair.

"You're in a forest... you can hear the birds tweeting all around you, you can smell the flowers and the dampness from a recent rain. The humid air hugs you as you travel through the trees, the cold stone below is smooth and cool against your skin..."

Grell relaxed, starting to sense everything Undertaker mentioned. He saw the red and gold leaves of autumn and the damp earth with river stones beneath him, and he looked up to see a patchy, blue sky with multiple fluffy white clouds hanging within it. It was a safe haven. Somewhere to escape to, and Grell wasn't afraid to take the temporary route out of life.

Undertaker's voice seemed to carry him through a day, then deep into a beautiful, moonlit night. His words flowed throughout Grell, and when it finally drifted off into the quiet peace of his trance, Grell had enough to keep dreaming on his own.

About twenty minutes later, the silverette's voice came after at least fifteen of silence. "Time to come back, m'dear," he whispered gently. "Our time for today is over, but wander out of the forest at a leisurely pace. No rush, darling. Come out slowly..."

Grell yawned, his green eyes cracking open before he looked back at Undertaker. "Mm...," he hummed contentedly. "You let me rest a lot longer than I thought you would."

"Hehe~ You were just so peaceful," Undertaker answered. "Of course I let you rest. Now, off home, it's dinner time for you!"

"Heehee... okay...," Grell sighed, standing and stretching. As the counselor stood as well, Grell took the silverette into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Thank you..."

"Anytime, m'dear," Undertaker answered.

"Uh, Undertaker, I've been meaning to ask... what do your eyes look like?"

The counselor paused, before grabbing his cane from its place leaning against a wall and saying, "Ohh, you _don't_ need to see them. They're nothing special." He began to walk away, but Grell reached out, catching his arm.

"Don't be shy! I want to see them!" he persisted, making big, sad eyes as he begged. "Pleeeaaase?"

"I insist, m'dear...," Undertaker said, reaching out for the doorknob.

"I insist _more_, Undertaker darling! Let me see your eyes!" Grell announced, this time reaching out and pushing the silverette's bangs up. He froze, however, when he was met with a foggy, white gaze. "You're... blind...," Grell breathed, placing a hand over his mouth. "_That's_ why you felt along me when we first met! _That's_ why you have an assistant! _That's_ why you carry the cane, and _that's _who clumsy! You're not old, you just can't _see!"_

"Now, now, knock it off," Undertaker mumbled, fixing his bangs again. "Goodness. I'm old _and_ blind, dear, don't make it one or the other. Keep quiet about this, now. I don't want pity from my patients - that's why I don't tell them myself. Just... let it be what it is, miss Grell, because it's not a big deal..."

"But I just can't! You're so important to me, and I never knew how _fragile_ you w-"

"I'm _not_ fragile," Undertaker said seriously. "I might not be able to see, but I can get around as well as anyone else. Don't pity me. Don't look down on me. Just carry on as if I were some charming man with blue eyes, now, and keep quiet, as I said."

"... Okay, Undertaker... I'll... respect your decision," Grell murmured.

"Thank you, m'dear," the silverette sighed.

Grell left the office, his heart pounding from the discovery. But it made a lot of sense - with all of Undertaker's strange antics, and if it really had been just his bangs, _surely_, by now, he would have simply moved them out of the way.

As he thought, his thoughts soon began to ponder about his encounter with Claude Faustus. He was a nice fellow, and he made Grell feel special for the first time in years. He felt like a proper lady, who was cared for.

And that, to him, was quite the big deal, after years of being abused and turned down by the majority of people he met.

Grell paused in front of a flower store, and hummed quietly._ I should go in here sometime, _he considered._ Heaven knows I love flowers._

The redhead walked the path back to his home, smiling widely as he considered the chance meeting with Mr. Faustus. Perhaps, in the future, he could become better acquainted to the raven-haired male, and maybe take up work at the orphanage. After all, he did enjoy caring for children,and he'd always rather wanted one of his own.

When he had gotten a little closer to his apartment, he got an idea. It had been a long time since he'd even tried to contact Eric and Alan, and he was certain that they were worried for him. He headed into a park, and, leaning against a tree, he took out his cell phone and called Alan. "... Hello? Alan, sweetie? It's Grell," he said.

("Oh, hey, Grell!" Alan said. "Uh... how, uh... how are you?")

"Better, darling. I'm seeing a counselor," Grell answered, absently twirling a lock of red hair in his fingers as he spoke. "Are you and Eric free at the moment? I was thinking we could maybe catch up?"

("Sure!" the brunette answered with undisguised happiness. "We'll come right over!" Just before the line disconnected, Grell heard, "Eric! Get _off_ the couch and _out_ of your pajamas, you lazy-")

Grell gave a small giggle and walked the rest of the distance back to his apartment, and only moments after he shut his apartment door, there was a knock on it. "Who is it~?" he sang.

"Open the door, Grell," came Eric's rugged reply. Grell laughed, opening the door and letting his friends in immediately.

"Been a while! How are you two?" he asked in a cheerful tone.

"We're doing good. You?" Alan answered.

"Hardly ever better~," the redhead answered. "My counselor is this nice old man named Undertaker, who's been helping me get over the whole ordeal with your boss and Knoxie. And by the way... uh... do you think sometime... I could meet up with Ronald?"

"You'd be up for that?" Eric said, arching an eyebrow. "After the shit he put you through?"

"Eric!" Alan protested. _"Language!"_

"Chill, Al, we're not at work," Eric snorted.

"I don't care about what he did anymore," Grell said calmly. "I think I can forgive him for it. After all, now it's him getting hurt by Mr. Spears, right?"

"Er... y-yeah...," the blond drifted off, rubbing the back of his head.

"... What's the pause for, Eric darling?" Grell questioned.

"W-well, you see... um...," Alan whispered. "William and Ronald... uh... have hooked up."

"What?!" Grell gasped sharply. Shock coursed through his veins briefly, lighting a fire in his rebuilt heart, before he stopped himself, and shook his head, calming down again. "... D-doesn't matter," he said. "William didn't want me. Knoxie probably knows how to make him happy..."

"Oh, that's for sure," Eric muttered. "He's the teacher's pet, you know. A total lapdog. He's not really someone you'd want to tangle with anymore. Know why? Cause now, boss is trying to save his ass instead of spank it."

"... Is that right?" Grell murmured.

"Yes... although Eric's way of putting it is a bit odd," Alan sighed. "Ronald's a bit of a snitch now. Break any of the rules, and he's on you like a bloodhound. With any luck, both he and William are going to start relaxing soon..."

"Huh...," Grell breathed. "I suppose he's trying to impress William. Make him proud, y'know?"

"Yeah, well he's getting damn annoying," Eric muttered. "We'll mention you to him and see how he reacts, all right?"

"Okay... thanks," Grell whispered back. "So... you want to stay for dinner?"

"Oh- um, we'd love to, but...," Alan drifted off, a light blush decorating his cheeks.

"Sorry, Grell. We've got plans," Eric said. "We're heading into the next town. Reservations at a fancy place."

"It's my birthday," Alan added with a trace of shyness.

"Really?! Sorry, love, I completely forgot," Grell sheepishly answered. "I would've gotten you something..."

"Don't bother," Eric laughed. "Alan never wants it to be a big whoop. Just let it go."

"Well, all right, since I know you're shy~," Grell giggled to the brunette. "How long can you stay, then?"

"Ahh, at least a half hour...," Alan replied. "Why don't we head over to the couch and catch up some more?"

"Oh, Alan, honey, you _know_ I can spend an hour just going through a day~!" Grell laughed, starting towards said couch. "You're gonna have to start!"

For about the next forty minutes, the three exchanged stories about their recent goings-on, the unique antics of Undertaker and the lovestruck Ronald Knox, as well as mentions of Pluto and the orphanage. There were solemn discussions of Grell's depression, along with comical descriptions of everyday work at Spears's Spectacles. Time flew by, and soon, it was time for Eric and Alan to head out. The two reluctantly said their goodbyes, before leaving Grell's house once more.

As he headed into the kitchen, Grell quietly greeted Truth, who had bounded to him the moment Eric and Alan had left. "Good evening," he greeted. "So nice to see you, sweetheart, you hungry?"

_"Mew!"_

Dinnertime was somehow more fun since he'd met Undertaker. While it had once been a chore, it was now something that he could (_almost_) look forward to. He was fulfilling the request of someone who cared for him. That was incredibly important to him, to make other people happy. Undertaker's encouragement helped him quite a lot, and paying for the counselor's meals, he felt, was simply the least he could do.

After eating, the redhead was fast to slip into bed, sighing peacefully as he did so. "Mm... good night, Truth," he murmured as his eyelids fell over his emerald gaze.

In his dreams, Grell was within a lush forest, filled with trees who were starting to lose their leaves, the reddened and goldened pieces dancing in the breeze on their way to the ground. They fluttered and floated like butterflies, their veins outlined black whenever they passed over the sun. As they swirled around Grell's body, he took slow, calm steps forward, his eyes resting on the cold, slightly clammy rocks and earth beneath him. The natural environment was incredibly pleasant, the cool air, crisp and fresh, while the warm sunshine was dry and soothing on his skin. Between the rocks, moss began to spring up, a plush surface to walk across. The trees rustled as more leaves fell, the wind whistling, birds chirping in chorus before quieting, then starting their song again in an endless, beautiful pattern.

It was the most peaceful setting he'd ever been in while he was dreaming. Then, as if it couldn't get better, Grell found himself at the edge of a lake, small, rippling waves rolling across the surface and shimmering in the sunlight.

_Gorgeous._

Grell gave a faint smile, leaning against a tree as he whispered, "Just like me."

**-End Chapter**

* * *

*phew* That took a while to write. Well, Grell's confidence has returned for the first time in... a long time. XD

Do leave me a review! D: This came too close to being two weeks late!


	16. Claude's Desire: Chance

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 6: Chance

* * *

_~Claude Faustus~_

Five days later found Claude running errands, on his own this time. The children were all at school, so he'd taken the opportunity to run out on his own and pick up some things. But oddly, when he paused in front of the flower shop by habit, he decided to go in, perhaps say hi to Ash. As he headed in, however, he was surprised to see the red-haired male, whom he now knew was named Grell Sutcliff. The younger man was observing the flowers in silent admiration, his lips quirked in a grin.

"Grell?" Claude called in a gentle voice. The redhead spun around, and his bright, green eyes lit up.

"Oh, Mr. Faustus~!" he greeted, sweeping in. "So lovely to see you again!" Claude smiled as the redhead's arms were suddenly around his waist, hugging him tight.

The ravenette gently rubbed the redhead's back in response, used to these spontaneous hugs (as Alois gave them out quite often), while greeting, "How have you been, miss Grell?"

"Heehee~ I've been good~," Grell said, his emerald eyes affectionately meeting the older male's as he batted his eyelashes. "What brings you to such a shop, Mr. Faustus? Shopping for a loved one?"

"Heh, no," Claude answered. "I came because Angela, Ash and I were acquainted in high school. What about you?"

"Oh~ I just saw all of the lovely red roses in here, and I couldn't help but take a peek!" Grell said. "Roses are my favorites! In red, especially! I simply adore~ them!"

"Is that so?" Claude said as he stepped over to one of the baskets. "Perhaps I should buy some for you," he suggested, picking up one of the flowers. The redhead blushed, and shook his head.

"Oh, no no no, darling! I couldn't possibly accept such a gift! It's... so romantic, and..." Blushing a little harder, Grell continued, "and I don't want to fall into that trap all over again..."

"Trap? No traps here," Claude replied, reaching up and placing a hand on the other's head. "Just a man giving roses to a lovely lady."

"Lovely...?" Grell murmured, his cheeks darkening until they were crimson. The moment he was distracted, Claude picked up a bouquet of the red flowers and placed them on the counter.

"You charmer," Angela teased, taking the ten dollars he offered and passing them back.

"Not until today," Claude replied. He walked back to Grell, and set the roses into the redhead's arms. "There. Right where they belong," he said, giving a fairly innocent smile.

"You... why did you get these for me?" Grell asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Claude gave a shrug.

"I suppose... you just always had a lonely look about you," he said. "And I know what lonliness feels like. It's not a good feeling." Grell shook his head, closing his eyes and holding the roses close, and Claude almost instinctively pulled the redhead into his own arms. Grell rested his forehead against the taller man's shoulder.

"You're sweet," he whispered. "But I _can't_ fall in love again."

"You don't need to," Claude answered. "You just need to accept."

"Accept... huh...," Grell repeated in a quiet voice. He suddenly backed up, and said, "Hey, let me buy you lunch!"

"Hm? You sure?" the ravenette asked, his golden eyes widening slightly in surprise. It wasn't often that he had a favor paid back.

"Well, of course! It's not like me to leave a gift unreturned," Grell replied with a smile. "What do you say? Pluto's?"

"Okay...," Claude agreed, before grunting in surprise as Grell grabbed him by the arm and started taking him out of the shop. He sighed as he was taken along by the redhead, and he freed his arm so that he could just walk beside the younger male. "Hey, uh... may I ask you something?"

"Mm hm~," Grell hummed, his nose buried in the bouquet of roses.

"Uh... Are you seeing Undertaker because of some incident with that... Mr. Spears?" Claude asked. Grell turned towards him, shock in his eyes.

"H-how do you know that?!" he snapped.

"Calm down, calm down," Claude said, glancing around worriedly at the people who had turned towards them. "Shh, I saw what happened by that lenscrafting building..."

"Then you must think I'm just easy prey," Grell said, turning around. "Forget I ever said a word to y-"

Claude wrapped his arms around the redhead and pulled him back against his chest. "Hush. I've never had a girl or boyfriend, I've never had sex, so I don't know nor need that pleasure. Come now, I work at an orphanage. I just want to make your acquaintance."

Grell shoved away again, still glaring, and Claude tried not to be annoyed by the fact that the roses in the other's arms were starting to wilt a bit. "All right, fine. I'll give you a chance. But you keep in mind I'm _no_ cheap woman. I fall in love fast, but I _won't_ give myself to you from the start! If you try anything, I'll... I'll never speak a word to you for the rest of your life!"

"All right," Claude agreed.

Grell was taken back for a moment, but he eventually grunted and brushed some hair back behind his ear as he muttered, "Lunch better be good."

Claude managed to lead Grell the rest of the way to Pluto's without further argument, and Pluto immediately approached them, looking between the two before giving a dramatic gasp. "M-Mr. Faustus!" he yipped, jumping slightly. "Please tell me this is a date! You and Grell both have come here time after time, _both_ of you lonely and longing for someone to spend your lives with... If you two were to go out-"

The ravenette placed a hand on the owner's shoulder. "Sorry to disappoint, Pluto," he said, "but as ravishingly gorgeous and incredibly kind as Grell is, today, I'm merely being returned a favor."

Grell snorted. "You're sweet, Plu darling," he said with a flip of his hair. "But this man needs to know that I'm not easy!"

"O-oh, hehe, sorry," Pluto chuffed, before calling, "Mr. Chambers?"

The blond-haired waiter soon walked over, and started to turn down serving Grell, when his gaze rested on Claude. "Ohhh~ it's _you_ again! Well, as much as I distaste _that gender-confused redhead_, I'll allow it for the sake of a devil's beauty! Allow me to show you to your table!"

Claude and Grell soon took their seats, and as Aleister left, Claude turned back to Grell with a soft look in his eyes. "Is he _always_ that horrible to you?" he asked.

"Hmph. Most people are that horrible, if not worse," Grell replied, looking away. "Undertaker and my friends Eric and Alan are the nicest ones to me..."

Claude rested his hand on his heads. "Would you tell me more about yourself?" he asked. "I want to know... you fascinate me..."

"'Fascinate' you, huh?" the redhead scoffed.

"Yes... Or rather... you dazzle me... and I want to learn just what kind of person you truly are," Claude replied. "Talk."

Grell gave a light sigh, before whispering, "I wouldn't know where to begin... I... I don't get asked a lot of questions like 'what I'm like' or 'who I am.' To be honest, I'm still trying to figure everything out for myself."

Aleister returned to their table. "So what may I get the handsome devil and the black sheep to drink?" he said with a charming smile.

"Take it back," Claude said swiftly.

"Hm? I beg your pardon?" their waiter murmured.

"Everything you've said about Grell," Claude said. "Take it all back."

"Why should I? I haven't said anything false about him," the blond answered.

"Everything that leaves your mouth regarding Grell is a lie. Now take it back before I punch you across the jaw," Claude said, glaring at the other male. A visible chill ran through Aleister.

"A-all right, fine! I'm sorry, Grell, and I take back all of the rude things I said about you," he muttered. "Now... what may I get you to drink?"

"Wa-"

"Red wine for the both of us," Claude interrupted.

"A fine, mature choice!" Aleister said, before running off again. Claude sighed.

"That man hasn't changed since high school...," he growled.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture, but I can fight my own battles!" Grell protested. "And why did you interrupt me?"

Claude looked back at him. "Sorry," he sighed. "Do you not like wine?"

"Well, yes, but you forget that I'm buying!" Grell protested. "I... I don't have a job... and the wine here is pretty expensive, you know..." Claude gave him an apologetic nod.

"I'll pay for half."

"But...," Grell drifted off, before sighing, "fine..."

"No worries," Claude said. "The orphanage is... pretty profitable, I suppo-"

_"Claaauuude!"_

The ravenette looked up just in time to see Alois come out of the blue, tackling him in a hug. "What are you doing here~? Ciel, Sebastian and I had to walk home from school, thanks to you! You old git!"

"Calm down," Claude said, patting the blond's hair. "You did need a little exercise, you know..." Alois looked over at Grell, and smiled widely.

"Hello~," he greeted. "Sorry to interrupt."

"You weren't really interrupting anything," Grell answered with a smile. "Alois, right?"

"Heehee~ Yup! And you're... Grell?"

"That's right."

"Alois... don't you have homework you should be doing?" Claude sighed.

"I do, but I stopped here with Ciel and Sebastian for lunch, 'cause it was a short day at school," the blond replied. "Sebastian's paying for lunch for the three of us. We're over there." He pointed to a table about three down from Claude and Grell's. "But I see that you're busy, so~..." He started away, and Claude laughed it off as he turned back to Grell.

"Sorry about that...," he chuckled.

"It's no big deal," Grell dismissed. "They're kids, after all! And you know, I love children. So bubbly and excited for life... it's really quite nice. You have a very good job, Mr. Faustus."

"You think so?" Claude murmured. "My parents threw quite the fuss over it."

"Mr. Tanaka?"

"No, no...," the ravenette sighed. "My... biological parents..." He leaned back in his seat. "I last talked to them right after graduation. They more or less told me they were disappointed, and wanted nothing more to do with my life... I returned the phrase to them."

"My! That's horrible!" Grell cried, before pausing again, as if realizing that he had meant to be cold to Claude. "... My parents... they were always supportive of me..."

"Good thing they were...," Claude said in a soft voice. "You're someone who certainly deserves support..."

"Oh, shut up," Grell mumbled, looking away and blushing. "I _don't_ appreciate it."

"Grell," Claude said, reaching out and touching the redhead's hand. "I want to know more about you."

"There's not much to know," Grell answered with a flip of his red tresses. "Rejection seems to have a crush on me. The vast majority of people don't like me. Those who do are either pressured into pretending to hate me or just _aren't_ interested in me for romance. What you witnessed with Mr. Spears is just one of many incidents."

"Is that so? It's a shame...," Claude sighed, resting his head on his palm. "You have such passion and grace about you... not unlike that of a butterfly. A fiery, red butterfly..."

Grell stood up, slamming his hands on the table. "Shut up! I _can't_ be hurt again!" The cafe fell quiet for a moment, everyone turning towards the table Claude and Grell were at, so the redhead awkwardly sat down again, sadness in his eyes. "I just... if I fall for you, you'll end up like everyone else. And I can't... I can't do that... If I'm hurt again... I won't be able to recover."

"I have no intentions of hurting you, Grell, please understand that," the ravenette murmured. "I've never wanted to hurt anyone. I don't use people. I'm not that kind of person."

The redhead looked down. "... I'm sorry, Claude," he eventually sighed. "You've bought me roses, and are more or less taking me out to lunch... and you're so nice, but... I guess I just can't help but push you way. You need to seek out someone else."

"I don't want someone else," the older male said quietly. "Grell, I don't do this sort of thing for just anybody. I've never been in love, so for the last time, I'm not trying to hit on you. I just want to be your friend."

Grell slowly stood, before hurrying away, whispering, "I'll be right back. Restroom."

Claude guiltily looked back to the table. "You're blowing it, Faustus...," he sighed to himself. Aleister Chambers returned to their table, setting down their drinks, looking confused. After a few awkward moments, he finally gave a small chuckle.

"Did you come to your senses and drive off that disgusting, confused man?" he snickered. "Isn't he annoying?"

Claude glared at him. "He'll be back in just a moment."

"Hm. Well, what can I get you to eat?"

"He should be back within five minutes. Just come back then to take our orders," the raven-haired male sighed. The blond nodded and walked away.

And so, five minutes passed - in fact, they droned on. But Grell did not return. Aleister came back to check in, and when Claude realized that it had really really been five minutes, he decided to go and make sure the redhead was all right. He headed into the bathroom, calling quietly, "Grell?"

He froze, however, when he saw the younger male. Grell was doubled over the sink, sobbing, mascara trailing down his cheeks. A paper towel was clenched in one fist, already soaked with his tears. Claude took a fresh paper towel, and walked up to Grell, before placing a hand on his shoulder. Teary, emerald eyes met his golden gaze, and he felt Grell tense. "Shh," he hushed, not wanting to get yelled at while the both of them were in the bathroom. He carefully wiped away the black tears, whispering, "Grell... you're a very special person... You're beautiful, you're intelligent, and you're creative. The world needs more people like you in life... don't you dare give up, ever. I know that you have a brilliant future ahead of you... you just need to grab it."

Grell opened his mouth to protest, but all that left him was a whimper before he buried his face in Claude's shirt, hugging him close. Claude merely hugged back, continuing to murmur words of comfort as the reaper's tears soaked his shirt.

No one could say exactly how long they were in there for. More than ten minutes, but less than an hour, even though it felt like an eternity.

The rest of the date was lost through the memory of that time spent in each other's arms. Claude lay in bed that night, only thinking about how Grell had smelled of sweetbriars - his favorite flower - and how his body was so warm and cozy. How he had felt so relaxed in that moment, almost the same feeling as being wrapped in a quilt by a fireplace after spending time out in the harsh snow. And then, how his heart had ached for the crying male. The empty feeling that had struck him when he saw that tear-streaked face.

It was something he couldn't see himself forgetting... not for a long time.

"Mr. Faustus? Are you okay? You keep tossing and turning, so I thought... perhaps you can't sleep?"

"It's just taking me a while to get settled, Drocell...," Claude sighed, "but thanks for your concern."

"Alois seems to think you have a boyfriend... congratulations?"

"Oh, no, no... no boyfriend," Claude chuckled. "A friend took me out to lunch, that's all..."

"Oh... sorry," Drocell apologized.

"No problem," Claude said. "Good night, Drocell."

"Good night, Mr. Faustus..."

Claude turned on his side, curling into himself as his thoughts slowed. The final thought before sleep took him was,

_'I need to see him again.'_

**-End Chapter**

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;-; This update took painfully long... D: I'm sorry, my dears~ Phoenix has been both busy and distacted lately... :'( So sorry!

But you know - it's the reviews that matter most! Please, keep reviewing~ It's fuel for every author's inspiration!


	17. Claude's Desire: Special

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 7: Special

_~Grell Sutcliff~_

* * *

_The lion, fierce and strong, his fiery red mane shimmering as he prowls through the tall, golden grasses, was as much of a lover as he is a hunter. His claws longed to capture a mate as much as they longed to sink into a meal. He prowls along, confident, tough, and trusting._

_One day, the lion encountered a cobra. Black scales glistened enticingly, and spring-green eyes glinted. The cobra lured him in, slithering about him sensually... and the lion rolled over with a purr. Letting his defenses down was his fatal mistake._

_The cobra struck._

_Suddenly, however, the nightmare was dashed. A brilliant hawk, eyes a piercing gold, swooped down, pinning down the snake with his talons and screeching protectively. As the cobra hastily made it's escape, the hawk looked at the lion as if to assure that it was all okay, before flapping its wings once and flying away once more with graceful conviction._

_Mr. Faustus..._

_Just what do you want from me...?_

Green eyes cracked open and Grell slowly sat up, using red pillows to prop himself up. That was odd - whenever he did have nightmares nowadays, they would still be genuine nightmares... no happy endings...

Grell moved his arms around his body, hugging himself. "Oh~ how pleasant your arms felt around me, Claude," he cooed, fingers fisting his sleeves as he gave a quiet moan. "I wish I could fall in love again, but I just can't, darling! It's impossible... Still, even though it was only last night that we had dinner, it feels like it was forever..."

_Undertaker keeps telling me to give him a chance... but I can't let myself be hurt again... He could too easily be another tease of a man... if I let my guard down for just a second, he could break my heart for the last time..._

Truth sprang on to the bed with ease, and padded over to Grell, nuzzling into him with her nose. The redhead immediately petted her, stroking her ears gently and scratching her chin. "Oh, sweetheart...," he sighed. "I just don't know what to do at this point... does Mr. Faustus... I can't tell anymore - does he want me, or does he really just... want to be my friend?"

He sighed.

_'Just friends.'_

What a loathsome phrase.

"Well, no use putting myself into another depression," Grell sighed, pushing himself off of the bed, and moving over to the wardrobe to get dressed. He frowned when he saw that the majority of the clothes in there were masculine and formal...

Things he'd bought to impress William T. Spears.

"A snake in human skin," Grell whispered bitterly, pulling out one of the few feminine shirts he had saved, along with his favorite pair of heels. "At least there are those who..." He smiled, continuing, "Those who care about the important things in life."

He'd grown quite fond of that phrase, hearing it from both Mr. Faustus and Undertaker now on several occasions.

Grell soon finished getting dressed and ready, and he left the apartment as he was cleaning his red-framed glasses, his destination being the flower shop where he'd met Mr. Faustus the previous day. He slipped in, and started towards where he'd seen the red roses, moving so quickly and eagerly that he accidentally ran into a white-haired male. "Oh- I'm so sorry!" he apologized as the male accidentally dropped a bouquet he was carrying, which the redhead didn't hesitate to catch.

"Ah, no worries, miss, it was my fault...," the male apologized, rubbing his nose, before suddenly sneezing into his arm. He glanced back at Grell with amethyst eyes, and mumbled, "Oh, sorry, uh, mister?"

"Miss...," Grell murmured. _"Please."_

"Sure," he said, taking the bouquet back from Grell. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deliver this across town..." He rushed out of the shop, and Grell watched out the windows as the white-haired male pedaled out of sight on a bicycle.

"Ash!" called Angela, running after him, before sighing as she realized he'd already gone. "Jeez...," she sighed, holding a silver watch in one hand. "If you lose track of time _again_...," she muttered.

Grell walked over to her. "Excuse me, uh, Angela? Is there something I could do to help?"

"Oh- Grell, um... yes, actually!" Angela said, apparently surprised that he'd approached. "Ash left his watch here again. Last time he did that, he was late for several pick-ups... Would you go after him and give this to him so he can stay on track? You can use my bike... it's out front."

"Certainly," Grell said, taking the watch from the florist and smiling widely. "Heh, feels odd to be doing a job after so long."

"Hm? Are you unemployed?" Angela asked, to which Grell gave a somber nod. "We've been needing a hand around... if you pull this off, you're certainly hired!"

Grell's eyes lit up. "Yes'm! I'll be right back!" He rushed out the door at that, swinging one leg over the silver bicycle and soon pedaling off, ignoring her calls asking if he even knew where he was going.

Because he most certainly did know. He knew that he was cycling into a new life. This was it - this was the last thing he needed: a job! He had friends now, he had the encouragement to be himself... someone who was taking him out to meals, even. To have a job with people who didn't care that he would rather be effeminate... Angela didn't mind him... Ash didn't seem to, either... and he'd be constantly surrounded by those beautiful flowers!

The world faded away as Grell grew hotter on Ash's trail, his pulse starting to race with anticipation. He moved with red tresses flowing behind him like a cape, eyes shining brightly. The excitement of the hunt was quite familiar to him... the thrill of chasing someone down. He'd known it, always, but never like this. He'd always known the joys of hunting for love... and now, he was experiencing a different adrenaline rush than before. Hunting for a life reborn. The very moment he caught the spot of white hair in the near distance, he pedaled harder, calling out, "Ash! Stop for a moment, Ash!"

The white-haired male shot a glance over his shoulder, before slowing to a stop, and he dismounted the bicycle at the same time as Grell, turning his face away and sneezing into his elbow once more. "Y-yeah?" he asked, before pausing as Grell held the silver watch out to him. "Oh, dude! Thanks! Man, I need to stop forgetting this... talk about a favor! I owe you one!"

Grell smiled. "There's absolutely no need~ Heehee, I would've done this without motivation, but I was _particularly_ excited since your darling sister offered me a job..."

Ash grinned. "It's about time. Since our other workers, Lau and his sister, quit working with us, we've been super busy... And we've been needing a hand around for quite a wh-..." He was cut off by another sneeze, groaning as the small fit came to a close.

The redhead suddenly pulled a red handkerchief from his breast pocket, holding it out to Ash. "I can't help feel sorry for you, Ash, having to work around flowers even with those nasty allergies of yours." The other gave a weak nod and took the handkerchief, before glancing up at Grell with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah... I was planning on being a photographer when I became an adult... but my sister would be all but helpless if not for me. I don't mind helping her out." He then climbed back on to the bicycle, saying, "Anyway, thank you again, mist- ah, _miss_... why, I don't know your name yet."

Grell found himself curling in his middle and ring fingers, index and little fingers pointed out in a rock sign and grinning widely as he announced, "Grell Sutcliff!" He spun around, stopping on his heel as he said, "The _deadly_ Sir Red is back in business!"

"Haha! Now we're talking!" Ash laughed. "See you around, then, Grell!" He started away, waving as he left, and Grell returned the wave enthusiastically as he mounted the bike that Angela had lended him, soon turning around and starting back.

It had been nearly ten years since he'd flashed his catchphrase and signature pose... He'd done it often back in high school... and he'd thought that doing it again would feel odd or foreign in some way, but thankfully, it just felt _right_.

_'Sir Red...'_ He'd adopted that title to go along with his sister's _'Madame Red'_ nickname. It was before he had felt trapped... he actually rather liked the sound of the title. Of course, he still preferred to be addressed as a woman, but... well, he was complicated, to say the least. All in all, Grell was happy to be back. The second heart that society had locked away... the wild, feminine, but certainly _male_ Grell Sutcliff had returned.

Oh, it was _so_ good to be back.

That once still and frozen heart now beat with vigor and excitement, his eyes alight with its fierce, flame-like energy.

_The deadly Sir Red is back in business._

_I'm back... Thank you, Undertaker... Claude... Ash, and Angela... you've brought back a man from the dead... and in doing so, you've completely turned my life upside-down... and pointed in a direction it should have been in a long time ago..._

Grell soon returned to the flower shop, and hopped out to greet the stunned Angela by the door. "Oh, my, that speed of yours will be greatly useful in deliveries!" she noted. "But... did you truly get it to him?"

"I did~," Grell all but sang.

"That's great! Well... okay, for work... to start out, how does Tuesday through Saturday from nine to four sound? Of course, you get two fifteen-minute breaks and an hour-long lunch break."

"That'll be just fine, Angela. Thank you very much," Grell said, his grin still plastered to his face.

"Well then, I'll see you in a few days," Angela said with a smile, before heading back into the shop. As soon as Grell started back out on to the sidewalk, however, he found himself hit hard by a running student, toppling over and stumbling to the ground as textbooks spilled out on to the ground.

"Oh, shoot! I'm so sorry!"

Grell glanced over, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw the frantic boy who had run into him - he was none other than Alois, Claude's little friend. "Why hello, Alois," Grell greeted, moving over and picking up textbooks in his arms. The blond glanced up with surprised blue eyes, then grinned.

"Hello, Grell. Fancy seeing you here, am I right? Heehee! ... Jeez, I'm so sorry about this..."

"No worries! It's wonderful to see you again, you flattering boy, but I kind of expected you to be in school," Grell chuckled, standing up with three books in his arms. Alois stood with the final, fourth one, and gave a tired nod.

"I was sick this morning... missed the bus because I thought I wouldn't be able to make it to school... but it passed really quickly, and I had time to make it... but probably not anymore..."

"Nonsense!" Grell said. "You can run there - you're nearly there, after all."

"But I'm in heels...," Alois muttered, blushing slowly. "It's just not a good idea..."

Grell giggled, elbowing the boy's arm and nodding downwards. Alois's eyes widened slightly as he saw the four-inch heels that Grell was wearing, and he almost looked like he'd explode from the shock when Grell said, "I'll run with you, then."

"What? In those things? Impossible!" the blond gasped.

"Come now, honey, step up to the challenge," Grell said, holding the books still as he began to jog. "You can do it, now."

"You saw what happened when I tried earlier!" Alois protested, starting to pick up the jog to keep up with Grell. "I ran right into you!"

"There aren't a lot of people out; just swerve around them," Grell responded, suddenly breaking into a run. Alois gasped, and followed the run, difficult with his heavy backpack. But he remembered that Grell was carrying three of his heavier textbooks, and he pushed ahead until he was almost blinded by the red hair in front of him.

"Hey, Grell?" he called. "How long does it take you to do your hair, anyway?"

"A few hours, at the least!" the redhead called back. "Why do you ask?"

"Well... I dunno! It's awful pretty - even most women don't pull that look off!"

"Thank you, darling!"

They got to the school faster than expected, just as the five-minute warning bell tolled, and Grell quickly transferred Alois's books back into his arms. "Now get to class, sweetheart," Grell chuckled.

"Thank you so much, Grell...," Alois murmured, setting the books down for a moment, before placing his hands on Grell's shoulders to give him the height to peck the redhead's cheek. He then quickly gathered the textbooks again, before heading off towards the school, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks again, Grell! You're great!"

"Heehee~ Your absolutely welcome, darling!" Grell called back as he watched the boy go. A fond look came into his emerald gaze, and he headed back for his apartment.

"Such an adorable boy... reminds me of myself..." He smiled, and straightened his red coat as he whispered, "I suppose I'm not the only one... Looking back, though, is this really a curse? Perhaps in some ways, being trapped in a male body was a blessing..."

_In some ways..._

Grell shook his head, soon reentering his apartment for the night.

_Looks like I have another new friend._

**-End Chapter**

* * *

This took atrociously long to finish. ;-; School's been a real pain in my arse lately... it's finals this week and I'm just glad that I was able to take advantage of this three-day weekend. Projects, too... ah, _gods_, the_ projects!_

*annoyed sigh*

Well, I did manage to post, finally.

So please, do leave a (_long_ would be nice...) review! That's what keeps me motivated, after all!


	18. Claude's Desire: Greatest Fear

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 9: Greatest Fear

* * *

_~Claude Faustus~_

Claude hurried into Alois's room, and gasped when he saw the blond still in bed. "Alois!" he protested. "You have school!"

"Don' feel good...," the blond mumbled. "Feels like I'm gonna hurl..."

"Really? Ah, jeez, come here, I'll get you to the bath-" The ravenette had stepped forward, but he immediately stepped back as Alois promptly emptied his stomach contents on to the floor. "... Alois...," he sighed. The blond groaned and wiped at his mouth.

"Get me a washcloth...," he mumbled. "Damn... this is so gross."

"Yeah, I'll be right back...," Claude sighed, heading into the bathroom. He soon wet a washcloth, and returned to Alois, trying his best to block out the smell. "Man, Alois... what do you think did _that _to you?" he asked.

"I dunno...," Alois mumbled after cleaning up his face. He went to try and clean his clothes, when Claude intervened.

"Just take your shirt off and hand it to me... there's not much, but I'll just wash it... you should go shower," he said. "You can spend the day home, so take your time."

"Mm'kay...," Alois muttered, shedding his shirt and tossing it to Claude, who sighed as he caught it. As the blond headed off to the shower, Claude moved to the laundry to clean up the shirt. He soon moved back into Alois's room, however, and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was the only part of the orphanage that could really irritate him...

Actually, he was a little surprised that there wasn't a puddle of rainbow on the floor, considering Alois's normal attitude... Perhaps life really just didn't work that way.

After cleaning up the mess, Claude headed over to the bathroom where Alois had just finished showering, and knocked on the door. "Hey, are you feeling better?" he asked.

"A bit!" Alois called back. "Can you come in for a sec?"

Claude slipped into the bathroom, and was met with the sight of Alois staring into the mirror, holding a white towel around his wet body, his hair dripping with water. The older male grabbed another towel off of the rack, and began to dry Alois's hair for him. "Why do you look so sad?" he asked softly.

"Claude... am I ugly?" Alois asked in a small voice as he let the older male care for him.

"Not even close," Claude replied. "Alois, most women would be jealous of you, with your silky blond hair and bright, blue eyes... and your slender frame just adds to it. You're beautiful."

"But... what about the boys?" the younger male murmured. "They aren't jealous. They're just mean."

"That's because children are stupid," Claude laughed. "The ones here... the ones raised on genuine love and gentlity alongside firm discipline are vastly different from the others, whose parents work twenty-four seven and don't have the time to care for their own child. Pity them. They're unleashed innocent into the world, and they come back callous to pain and hard-hearted."

Alois glanced up at Claude, before suddenly letting the towel fall off of his shoulders, and backing up so that Claude had a view of his bare body. "What about like this?" he whispered. "Am I pretty like this, with all these bruises?"

Claude's eyes traveled carefully around Alois's neck and to his collarbone, seeing several bruises and cuts. His eyes moved lower, darting to each individual wound and analyzing it. More cuts, more bruises... scrapes, and hand prints as if Alois had been slapped so hard that it wasn't healing. There were marks on his neck as if he'd been choked, slits in his arm as if he'd been cut by a knife, several large, dark purple welts where he'd been beaten... from throat to foot, Alois was a complete mess.

"Claude, please," Alois murmured, holding out his arms. The older male immediately leaned in, and hugged the boy against him.

"I'm sorry, Alois... it really is getting out of hand...," Claude breathed. "You need to talk to the principal... or someone, about this."

"I am talking to someone," the blond whispered, glancing up at him. "I'm talking you you."

"But I don't know what to do about it...," the older male said. "I don't want to fight your battles for you, Alois. I want you to stand up for yourself better... and I don't mean by beating them back."

Alois snorted. "Yeah. Maybe if I offer them my ass they'll back down."

_"Alois!"_ Claude gasped.

"What? I'm old enough," Alois muttered. "And it's not like they aren't already calling me a whore and a slut..."

Claude let out a slow breath, and took Alois's clothes, handing them to him. "Get dressed," he whispered. "Alois, you are none of the things they call you. Don't you dare let those fools destroy who you are. You're passionate, with a soul that dances like a flame. And when you burn in your bright, fiery light, you make everyone envious of your genuine beauty. Don't you _dare_ let these children make you burn yourself out. I'll continue to softly fan your flame, but in the end, you need to be the one to keep yourself burning. Do you understand?"

Pulling up a pair of his booty shorts, Alois mumbled, "I guess..." He glanced back up at Claude, now taking his coat and sliding it on. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"With every fiber of my being," Claude answered, his tone completely honest.

"... Well, okay," the younger male sighed. "... Claude, I think... I think I want to try going to school."

"You'll have to hurry," Claude replied, arching an eyebrow. "Everyone else has already left."

"No problem!" Alois answered. Within minutes the blond had gathered his books, and left the orphanage.

Smiling faintly, Claude headed to the window, where Drocell was gazing outside, quietly humming London Bridge. "Hello, 'Docee,'" the ravenette teased, and Drocell chuckled lightly, looking back at the older man.

"Hello, Clauddy-darling~!" he answered, before losing the flamboyant tone and simply laughing in his typical, robotic manner.

"Let me guess. Alois told you to call me that?" Claude chuckled.

"No, Ciel did," the other replied.

"... That's odd. Ciel...?"

"Well, no," Drocell admitted. "It was Alois. But he told me to tell you it was Ciel."

"That figures," Claude snickered, sitting down beside the other. "... Drocell, even though I've wanted to, I've never asked... but do you have any hobbies?"

Drocell shrugged, a small blush rising to his cheeks as he rested his head in his arms. "... make dolls sometimes, I thought to myself...," he mumbled.

Claude grinned, and patted the orange-haired male's shoulder. "Why don't you show them off here sometime?" he asked. "You know we've been needing new toys for the children."

Drocell glanced back at him. "I did want to give Sebastian one of Ciel," he said, a faint smile on his face. Claude laughed.

"I think the real Ciel would get jealous," he chuckled, to which the other shrugged.

Claude glanced out the window. "... Drocell, have you ever been in a relationship?" he asked suddenly.

"... Are you offering?" Drocell questioned, tilting his head to the side.

"No, no... just asking," Claude mumbled.

"... I haven't," the younger answered after a long pause. "Have no interest in one."

Claude gave a small nod. "Mm... I haven't either, but... I dunno... I just..." He shrugged.

"Have someone in mind?" Drocell teased lightly, to which Claude gave a reluctant nod.

"I suppose one might say that," the ravenette sighed. "But... I think it's preposterous of me. I haven't known them for very long, and I have zero experience in relationships. It's a bit of a bad situation for him as well-"

_"Him?_" Drocell interrupted. "... Mr. Faustus is gay?"

Claude immediately flushed red. "... Bisexual. Does this bother you?" he asked. Drocell paused for a long amount of time, then shook his head.

"No."

The ravenette gave a sigh of relief, before mumbling, "I'm... gonna start preparing for lunch." He soon stood and walked back towards the kitchen, heart beating a bit faster than normal.

_Grell Sutcliff..._

The mere thought of being in a relationship with another person sent Claude into a bit of a panic. He was so awkward, and his gauche personality didn't help him when it came to talking to others. He was good with children... and good with adults who reminded him of children, such as the toy-obsessed Drocell and all-over excitable Elizabeth. But Grell... he was different. He was like Alois, a flame, and Claude couldn't help but fear that if he tried too hard to win the other male's affections, he'd be absolutely hopeless - he'd put out that wonderful flame.

As of right then, Claude was certain that was his greatest fear.

* * *

Later on that night, when the children came home from school, Claude decided to prepare spectacular dinner in hopes it would distract himself from his strange mindset. As Sebastian joined him in the kitchen, Claude sent the younger male a smile. "How was school?"

"Wonderful. I won a soccer game single-handedly," he said softly. "And the young Lord, though rather useless in the game, gave me quite high praise for winning."

"Praise from Ciel?" Claude chuckled. "Seems a bit out of the ordinary. Are you sure he is feeling well?"

"He is fine," Sebastian replied. "I got him to take a cold pill in his sandwich today." The older male gave a light laugh, and reached over, affectionately messing the tall teenager's hair.

"You treat Ciel like a cat," he chuckled.

"Of course I do... After all, I love cats," Sebastian said, a dreamy look immediately entering his bloody-red gaze.

"Oh, speaking of...," Claude dug around in his pocket for a moment, before pulling out something he'd crocheted, a cat in the designs, "since you're staying here after you graduate... you could hang this on your wall."

Sebastian smiled and took the crocheted decoration. "Thank you very much, Claude. I'll go hang this up, and then I'll return to prepare Ciel's dinner..."

Claude gave another soft smile, then gasped as someone suddenly bowled into him from behind. Immediately, hands reached up and covered his eyes, and a revealing feminine giggle spilled forth. "Guess who~!" asked the offender.

"... Sebastian?" Claude asked, smiling as he humored Alois. "... Or perhaps Mr. Keinz?"

"Heehee~! Oh, don't play dumb, you'd know my voice anywhere!" Alois announced, before lifting himself on to Claude's back and wrapping his arms around the older male's shoulders. "Here, carry me!" he chirped. As he tried to righten himself, Claude gave a soft laugh and did his best to support Alois.

"Now, what are you doing hopping on my back? You're nearly an adult, you know," he chuckled, to which Alois gave a happy laugh.

"I'm happy! I saw Grell again today. Dude, Claude, he is so nice. You should marry him!"

"I-is he now?" Claude asked, the faintest blush crossing his cheeks as he ignored the intense poking assault Alois delivered to his cheeks.

"Yeah! I was gonna be late to school, but he ran with me the whole way there! Even though he and I were both wearing heels!" the blond announced, apparently quite proud of all of it. "You know~, if you do marry him, you two could be my parents!"

"You're almost old enough to be a parent yourself, Alois," Claude reminded the blond once more, to which the younger male simply giggled.

"Do you really wanna be a grandparent so early in life?" the blond asked. "How old are you, again?"

"Oh, I'm old enough," Claude laughed. "Old enough to have lost count, I mean! Anyhow, I'm glad you've cheered up. It pleases me to see you happy." Alois grinned, and slipped off of his back, now hugging him by the waist.

"I love you, Claude," he whispered, but he knew Claude would remain silent.

* * *

Later that day found Claude with an annoyed expression on his usually stoic face, a Calculus test in one hand. "Oh, Ciel...," he mumbled, shaking his head in slight disappointment. "I'll have to speak to him about this." He looked up from the paper he was working on, a soft sigh escaping him. "All right... to Ciel's room, I suppose," he whispered, before moving to the alleged room, soon reaching up to knock on the door, when he paused

"You must think you're so smart, teasing me in front of the class like that. What kind of butler are you?"

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I was out of line, wasn't I?"

"Very," came Ciel's voice in an annoyed huff. "Come here."

Claude carefully walked into the room, calling, "Ciel, your Calculus grade is pretty-" Blushing brightly, the ravenette recoiled at the sight before him. Sebastian had just leaned in and melded his lips to Ciel's softly, tongue slipping out and twining with the shorter male's. But as Claude walked in, Ciel broke away with a gasp, before glaring at Claude, a dark blush coloring his face.

Sebastian gave a small blush of his own. "What is it, Claude?" he muttered.

"Uh... Well, I... I just found Ciel's Calculus test," the older male mumbled, casting his gaze to the side.

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest," he huffed. "Don't you know that after eight o'clock at night is time for Sebastian and I alone?"

"I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know...," Claude whispered, stepping back.

Sebastian arched an eyebrow before replying, "Goodness, you don't enjoy picking up on body language and flirtations, do you, Mr. Faustus?" he snickered. "We've been together since a few days after Ciel came to the orphanage."

"That long?" Claude gasped, unable to contain his surprise.

"Yes. Please leave now," Ciel muttered, and Claude nodded, soon leaving the two to their privacy again.

As he stood outside Ciel and Sebastian's room, Claude felt a twinge of jealousy rising inside of him. They had what Claude had thought all his life he never would. They had each other - and they had had each other for perhaps a decade now. They were so intimate with each other, and their little games with each other had lasted so long... Claude sighed softly and slid down so that he was sitting on the floor, against the wall, and he folded his legs close, resting his head on his arms.

Now that he'd witnessed just the simple act of a kiss between the young males he'd known in his younger years, Claude found an unbelievable longing bloom in his chest. Hell, he rarely ever so much as imagined himself with another... and he almost never touched himself. Such things weren't important to him, weren't part of his life, and he hadn't even planned on thinking of relationships for a long time. But now...

He thought of Grell, and he felt his heart began to race. Upon closing his eyes, that red hair, that porcelain skin and those stunning eyes came back to him. He wanted to see Grell again... wanted to spend time with him... to hold him, kiss him, and-

The black-haired male stopped himself. What was this? This _wasn't_ love, what he was feeling. Definitely not... not _yet_. What he was feeling was a lust for attention that he had suppressed as a teenager, which was suddenly coming back twice as strong. Disappointed with himself, Claude stood and headed into his room, setting the test down on his nightstand before starting to unbutton his shirt.

He wouldn't turn into them. He wouldn't let lust rule his life. That would just hurt everybody. That in mind, Claude soon slipped into his night clothes, and took one long look at himself in the mirror.

Grell would never fall for him, anyway. Looking back, Claude thought that he didn't exactly do much of anything to make himself presentable. He had a wretched cowlick on the back of his head, had a smudge of dirt under his right eye from getting hit in the face with a soccer ball, and his glasses were so dusty they couldn't be seen through.

Actually, he was starting to look like Mr. Tanaka had.

With a sigh, the ravenette rubbed away the dirt, toyed with the cowlick, and started cleaning his glasses. If love was meant for him, then love would come. If he was too eager to pursue it, like a fox hunting a rabbit, he'd find his prey slipping right through his claws.

Beginning that night, _that_ turned into his greatest fear.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

So after a couple months of absence, I'm finally back. ;-; And for the sake of my reviewers, I will divulge that I had been in a relationship earlier in this year that ended quite emotionally-painful, and I'm nearly certain that depleted the little inspiration I had left for my writing. But I plan to start writing again, so please bear with me!

And please leave a review! D:


	19. Claude's Desire: Teardrop

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 2: Claude's Desire**

Chapter 9: Teardrop

* * *

_~Grell Sutcliff~_

Fiery as always, there was but a bang, the tinkle of the bell, and a cry of, "Did I miss him?" before Grell could be seen inside the room of Undertaker's shop. Finding himself met with silence, Grell could only come to the conclusion that he had, indeed, missed seeing Claude Faustus. With a trace of frustration, the red-haired male plopped himself down into a chair, before whispering, "Bummer."

Lau nodded from the door. "He had to leave early. He said he had to pick up a Ciel and Sebastian from some orchestra practice," the Chinese male said, giving Grell a small smile, before cocking his head slightly. "Wait, who are you again?"

"Very funny, Lau," Grell snickered with a giggle.

It had been a while since he'd seen the dark-haired male, but Grell wasn't at all put down by the fact. Though he missed Claude, he didn't necessarily _need_ the older male to survive. With a soft sigh, he turned to the side, dangling his legs over one arm of the chair and leaning against the back of it, taking out his cell phone and replying to a text from Alan, not missing a beat.

Waiting was a boring thing, but of course, the magnificent Sir Red could withstand it. He was both a madam and a mister, and he loved that. Dominant and submissive, tough and delicate... like a scupture of pure gold. He was just glad he _knew_ what he was now...

Suddenly, he could hear screaming from Undertaker's room, and he called, "H-hey, is everything all right over there?" He stood, taking a couple nervous steps towards the door.

"Claude! _Please_, I _need_ you!"

"Boy, you must calm yourself!"

_Crash!_

"Claude, come to me! Where are you?! I need you so bad right now... CLAUDE!"

Grell quickly made way for the door, when Undertaker came out, not using his cane for the sake of the emergency situation.

"Claude! S-sir, are you out h..." the therapist drifted off, soon biting his lip. "Where did he go?"

"He had to go to the school... can I help?" Grell asked, a worried look on his face. "I heard something break..."

"Don't worry about that, m'dear, just come on in," the counselor said. "Hurry up, now, the boy's hysterical..."

Grell nodded quickly, and rushed into the room, soon spotting the sobbing boy. "Wh... where's Claude?!" Alois choked out, frantic, blue eyes looking up at Grell. "Why isn't he coming to help me?"

"Hush, now, hush!" Grell said, moving to the boy and sitting beside him, pulling him into a tight hug that Alois immediately tried to pull out of.

"N-no... you're not Claude, so I can't trust you," the blond whimpered. "N-nice though you may be, you're just like everyone else... you're mean..."

"No, not at all, darling," whispered Grell, holding Alois close, and noticing a broken cookie jar on the ground. _Pity_. "You're so wonderful, Alois... you're absolutely wonderful..."

"How can you say that...? You don't know me...," Alois sobbed, reluctantly clinging to the red-haired male. Shaking his head, the older male began to soothingly rub Alois's back.

"No, I might not know you well, but I do know that you and I... we're the same, Alois," he whispered. "Two souls who have been beaten down by the abuse of others... and there aren't many things that can be done about it. They don't understand... nobody seems to understand, sometimes... but Alois, there are people. Undertaker here, your Claude... and I have some friends who are kind to us, too..."

Alois bit his lip, hugging the redhead tightly. "Y-you mean it? We're... there are more people who will understand us...?"

Grell nodded. "The world is never limited, hun. It's always open to us. Doors are everywhere... opportunities are everywhere. We can find a job anywhere, we can make friends with anyone. We're good people, Alois, no matter what anyone says to us. The only thing that can restrict us is our own worries."

The blond whimpered, then took both of Grell's hands in his own and nuzzled against the back of them. "... I... have never had a mother that loved me for who I am," he whispered. "But... but I think you sound like one." Grell blushed darkly, then pulled Alois closer, reaching around him again and this time stroking the back of his hair soothingly. "I... I want to spend more time with you, okay?" Alois whispered. "You need to start coming the the orphanage every so often, all right?"

Grell gave a slow nod. "... I... I think I will come every now and again, but... I will need Claude's permission first..."

Alois gave a shaky smile and cuddled closer to Grell, the redhead easily accepting the intimacy. With a small smile, he looked back at Undertaker. The counselor seemed to be in temporary awe.

"My, my," he said when he sensed he'd been acknowledged at last. "Miss Grell, you have quite a talent, don't you? You're quite a soothing soul - perhaps you, too, should've gone into my occupation. _Very_ nice! Would you want to stay in for the rest of the session? Alois, is that all right with you?" Grell and Alois both nodded, the two moving a little closer to each other as Grell whispered a 'yes.' The offer taken, Undertaker happily found his seat and slid back into it, soon starting to resume his session with Alois. "Now, I won't ask you about what they say again, okay, Alois?" he said in a gentle tone. "Instead, tell me this. Do you feel comfortable with others?"

"U...usually," Alois whispered, resting his head against Grell's shoulder as he spoke. "It depends. They can be mean, so I'm usually pretty hesitant with them... but meeting new people, I always try to be myself, and if they don't like it, they can suck my-"

"Alois," the therapist cut him off in a chiding tone. "There's a _lady_ in the room."

Giggling, Alois nodded and whispered, "Sorry, Grell."

"For what? I agree with you~!" Grell said cheerfully. "Though, you may want to be more careful what you wish for. You don't know where their mouths have been already, honey, and there are certain places I don't think you want to get dirty."

After a couple moments of silence, Undertaker snickered, then burst out into obnoxious laughter, an arm coming up to cover his eyes when he threw his head back. "BAHAHAHAHA! Miss Grell, you... AHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! One i-improper lad-AHAHAHA!"

Grell gave a soft smile at the laughter, then chuckled, "Well, it's true, isn't it?"

Alois giggled, adding, "Remember to keep clean, everyone~!"

The laughter was furthered still.

Finally, Undertaker's mad cackling slowly died down, and he soon settled down again, chortling. "Heehee~! All right! Today's session is free!" he announced. "Heeheehee~!"

"What? Why?" Alois giggled.

"Because you gave me a great laugh!" Undertaker chuckled, smiling widely. "Do that every week, and I'll hardly have any choice but to let you go free all the time~!"

Alois smiled. "Oh, no, don't do that. Claude wants to pay you. He gets a fair amount of money working at the orphanage... he even said once he'd be willing to pay for your sessions, too, Grell..."

Grell glanced up, surprised. "Really?" he asked, eyes filled with curiosity. "That's... he's so giving...," the redhead breathed, blushing lightly. The blond smiled, and reached up, pinching one of Grell's cheeks.

"He _liiikes_ you, miss Grell," the younger male giggled. "He says you're pretty, and he wants to spend more time with you..."

Grell paused for a moment, then looked down, frowning. "N-no... that's not right... he shouldn't be saying those things about me..."

Undertaker heaved a dramatic sigh. "Miss Grell, how are you going to find love if someone shows interest in you and you push them away?"

The redhead paused, soon pulling Alois to sit in his lap, which the blond eagerly accepted. "... I don't know," the redhead whispered. "It's just really strange for me... and... and I can't help thinking that he's using me, just like everyone else..."

"Everyone else pushed you away, miss Grell. There's a vast difference," Undertaker chided. "Mr. Faustus hasn't done anything bad to you. I believe you can trust him."

Grell gave a short sigh, and mumbled, "I can't help being scared, you know... it's not like love has _ever_ gone well for me..."

Undertaker gave a small nod. "Yes, dear, I understand, but... just give him a chance, okay?"

"Claude's super-nice!" Alois cut in. "He's one of those cliche guys who puts baby birds back in their nests if they fall, he was really young when he first started helping out at the orphanage, and... and he's not even had his first kiss yet, save for pecks on the cheek from me or one of the other kids for him being so nice to us! He's a great guy, really!"

Blushing a bit darker now, Grell took Alois's hand and whispered, "Thank you, darling. You're really sweet. Claude's raised you well."

"Aww, hell, you're _flatterin_' me now?" Alois giggled, a happy sparkle in his eyes "You're so perfect..."

Undertaker glanced at the clock at that moment, soon saying, "Oh, my, almost out of time. And we've hardly even accomplished anything today..."

"Well, that's okay, right?" the younger male snickered, grinning widely. "You don't need to do much if we aren't payin' ya, right?"

Shaking his head, the counselor replied, "My job is to please you, Alois, to help you overcome all of your shortcomings."

"But I am pleased!" the blond answered with a happy bounce, to which Undertaker grinned and stood.

"Ah, Miss Grell, could you grab my cane, please?" Grell immediately stood and hopped over to the corner where the therapist's cane was leaning against, soon moving back to him and passing him the cane, Undertaker immediately leaning against it. "Right, now, let's head out," he said happily, moving into the room. "Oh, Mr. Faustus, you're here!" he called, after Lau whispered the fact to him. "My, you certainly flaked out on us, sir," he scolded in a light tone, feeling around with his cane a bit, and smacking Mr. Faustus's ankle with it once the offending area had been found.

"Ow!" the ravenette protested, moving his legs out of the way of the older male's attack zone. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, poor Alois was in desperate need of you, but you were off taking care of your other children~!" Undertaker said dramatically. "The poor dear was wailing for you, wanted you there to comfort him... Ah, but how lucky a man are you that Miss Grell was here! She made it all better~! She saved the day!"

"Like a mom!" Alois added in, grinning widely.

Grell blushed, giving a sheepish smile as he looked at Mr. Faustus. Reaching up, he twirled a red lock of hair around his finger. "I-it's true...," he murmured softly.

The older male blinked, surprised, before a soft smile overcame his features. "Thank you, Grell," he said gently, reaching out and placing a hand on Grell's shoulder. "No one has really been able to calm Alois like that... other than myself, you are the first. I appreciate you helping him when I was unavailable."

A cheeks now matching his hair, Grell murmured, "N-no problem, Mr. Faustus..."

"Please, call me Claude," the other said with a smile, before seeming to realize something. "O-oh! You should come by the orphanage now and again... Grell, I would love to spend more time with you..."

Grell glanced away. "M- C-Claude, I..." Not knowing where to take his protest, he glanced back, only to see the older male writing something down on a notepad, soon pulling off the slip of paper from the others, tucking his pen back into his shirt pocket and grabbing Grell's hand, placing the paper in it.

"Call me," he said in a quiet voice, before backing away, saying, "Come now, Alois, we're already a bit late for dinner!" As the two hurried out, Grell stared in shock at what was written on the note. Seven, precious numbers, alongside a cursive-written 'Claude Faustus.'

"Hoo boy~! Already got his number, and you aren't even trying!" Undertaker giggled. "Would you look at that?"

"I... wh... what just...," Grell stuttered, eyes trained on the dark blue ink marring the clean paper.

"Now, get out! I am a very busy man!" Undertaker teased, ushering Grell outside of his shop and closing the door behind him. Grell slid to the ground, jaw ajar as he continued to stare.

'Call me.'

_That... was classic._

Suddenly, the redhead came back to life, springing to his feet and starting to run, startling many people and knocking a couple over as he dashed home as fast as possible. After hurrying into his apartment, he quickly made his way into his bedroom and threw himself on the bed, taking his phone out of his pocket and laying the paper beside it as if it were made of glass. He re-read the jewels written on the paper a hundred times before carefully, _ever so carefully _transferring each digit into his contacts under the name 'Claude Faustus,' before collapsing on his side, holding his phone close. Shakily, he pressed 'Call,' and held the phone to his ear.

Two rings, and then...

("Hello?")

"... C... Claude...," Grell whispered. "Sorry, I was just... I needed to make sure this was... a valid number, you know?"

There was a faint chuckle on the other end. ("Vos sunt ita bellus.")

"Huh?" Grell asked, eyes wide at what he was almost positive was Latin.

("I'll talk to you again soon, okay? I need to cook dinner...,") Claude said, voice soft.

"Oh- a-all right...," Grell said. "No problem. T-talk to you later, Claude..."

("Farewell for now.")

There was a long pause, both ends waiting for the other to hang up. After a few moments too long, Grell whispered, "Claude?"

("Yes?")

"... G... goodbye, Claude..."

("Yes, talk to you soon.")

After another long pause, Grell reluctantly ended the call, before curling into himself slightly, giving a long sigh. What a strange man that was...

Suddenly, Grell remembered something, and he gasped, sitting upright.

"Why that cheating Undertaker! He made me completely forget I had a session today!"

**-End Chapter**

**~Claude's Desire: End~**

* * *

*panting heavily and falling to knees* Gods, I finished it... OTL Finally! A somewhat normal update, everyone! :D

Next ark will be 'Eternity.' Everyone, please review! You know how much I appreciate it~!


	20. Eternity: Glass

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 3: Eternity**

Chapter 1: Glass

* * *

**_The Regulations_**

_Number one: No gum in the workplace._

_Number two: No smoking in the building._

_Number three: No violence in the workplace._

_Number six: All workers follow a strict dress code - formal wear is essential._

_Number seven: No drug use._

_Number eight: No alcohol._

_Number nine: Respect all higher-ups._

_Number ten: No use of profanity in the workplace._

_Number eleven: No selling of our product to people outside of stores unless Mr. Spears has given consent._

_Number twelve: Clear all desks of debris before leaving for the day._

_Number thirteen: Wash hands after using the restroom._

_Number fourteen: When handling spectacles, use utmost gentility and caution._

_Number fifteen: Go only to appropriate, work-related websites if using the internet._

_Number sixteen: Never be derogatory towards the people who keep the workplace spotless._

_Number seventeen: If one is caught stealing another's spectacles, they will be fired immediately._

_Number eighteen: No uncalled for parties in the building._

_Number nineteen: Do not bring foghorns into the workplace._

_Number twenty: No suprise birthday parties._

_Number twenty-one: No slang._

_Number twenty-two: No running in the workplace._

_Number twenty-three: As a follow-up to rule five, tuck in your shirt._

_Number twenty-five: Do not tell lies regarding work, the workplace, or the workers._

_Number twenty-six: Under no circumstances should male workers dress in a feminine way. Rule five applies to all sexualities._

_Number twenty-seven: No parrots or mentioning of parrots or their wellbeing in the workplace._

_Number twenty-eight: No vibrant, neon colors._

_Number twenty-nine: Even if you're miserable, pretend to be happy so that other workers won't feel uncomfortable. Sad workers make bad product._

_Number thirty: Lock your office door before you leave for the day_.

_Number thirty-one: Do **not** judge Mr. Spears's methods._

* * *

_~William T. Spears (and Ronald Knox)~_

A few beeps awoke William T. Spears that morning, and he groaned slightly, rolling on to his side and nuzzling into the back of the bare neck before him. "Mm... hit the alarm...," he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over the other male's skin, earning a small shiver.

"Uhn... tired... you do it..."

"Gh... fine." William moved on top of the younger male, soon reaching over and promptly shutting off the alarm clock. "There... wanna take fifteen more minutes?"

With a breathless chuckle, the blond looked up at him, spring-green eyes filled with affection. "We'll have to rush like crazy to get ready for work... and I still have to go to my apartment..." The younger male burst into a sudden yawn, reaching up and rubbing at one of his eyes with his knuckle. "Yer gonna make me late, and then ya'll not give me the raise I want."

"You can borrow one of my suits, and about that raise...," whispered the other male, before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the other male's in a chaste kiss. "I don't think you need to worry about that, my Ronald."

"Ya know I can't resist ya when ya get all possessive with me...," whispered Ronald, a bright smile on his face.

How did they come to be like this? It was a long story, really...

It had all started a couple weeks ago.

William had just gone through the last of his paperwork and was heading towards the entrance, but when he started down the stairs, he'd slipped and fallen rather ungracefully to the bottom of them - twisting his ankle in the process. He'd not called for help, though - his pride didn't let him. He lay there pointlessly for a while, about fifteen minutes, literally waiting for the injury to stop hurting. And yet, regardless of Wiliam's pride issue, Ronald still found him, and didn't hesitate to help him up and take him home, dressing the wound like any professional doctor would.

"Of course. Why the hell wouldn't I help you? I've got the training, after all," was all Ronald said when praised. "You're my boss, and I... well, I care a lot about you."

"Knox...," William had murmured. "Even through everything I've put you through... the scoldings... and the work load that should be criminal, you could say such a pointless thing?"

"It's _not_ pointless," Ronald said with a small pout, before standing, offering William his hand. "Come, get up. I can cook ya dinner if ya'd like, or if ya'd rather I just helped ya downstairs, that's fine, too."

Dumbly taking Ronald's hand, William followed the blond into his dining room, gasping as he suddenly tripped and fell against the younger male. His arms instinctively came up, locking around the blond's waist as he gave a small yelp, his ankle slightly jostled. "Knox..."

Ronald smiled gently, then pulled his boss to his feet. "I told you, call me Ronald when it's after hours," he said gently, before leaning in, and pressing a small kiss to the older male's forehead, before blushing, suddenly pulling back. "S-sorry, Will, please don't be mad..."

William stood stunned for a couple of moments as Ronald started to rant on about being sorry for it, that it had just come to him on instinct, that he would never do this normally but that he just felt such strong affection for-

"Affection?" William cut Ronald off. "What do you mean,_ affection?"_

"Well... ya did know I had feelings for ya," Ronald murmured, blushing darkly. "And I'm sorry - I know I was supposed t'let them go and all that, but... well, I can't stop myself from liking ya, boss. Honestly, I can't... Yer handsome, calm, laid-back in yer own way, civilized, and a bit OCD, but I love all of that about ya. It makes me feel special to know that I'm a good worker in yer eyes, despite the scoldings and harsh work load. I want nothing more than to try and live up to yer expections and make you a proud man." The blond's blush got almost impossibly darker, before he added, "Even if yer proud of me not for who I am and how hard I try, but for whatever good I do bring ya. All that doesn't matter, boss! I don't mind being used as a work pony as long as ya'll pat my shoulder, praise me... or so much as glance my way and nod in that d-damned proud way ya do. Yer the sexiest man alive, William, I swear...! And that's just an extra little treat, because I like the rest of ya even better than those sharp eyes of yers and that slick, black hair, and that sweet, toned body of yers... I like everything else even better than that, and damn, that's saying a lot!"

"... Set me down in that chair, Ronald. Then you make dinner... enough for both of us, please," William said then, masking his serious awkwardness by adjusting his glasses. Ronald glanced at him in surprise, but he didn't hesitate to do so, getting up and moving into the kitchen, soon starting to cook. There were no more words said - none that needed to be said, as Ronald prepared them both mashed potatoes, filet mignon, string beans and garlic bread, pouring them each a glass of wine as well.

It wasn't long before William and Ronald sat across from each other, eating in silence, one with his eyes half-lidded and a frown on his face, the other looking like he'd explode at any moment. The two of them indulged in a long meal, dragging it out as long as it could be dragged out, and hardly even meeting each other's eyes through the entire thing. William made sure there wasn't a crumb of food left on his plate, and if there was one, he swiped it off of his plate with his finger and licked it off.

By the end of the meal, Ronald's face couldn't get any redder, and as he was led to the door, he thanked his boss, even though he had been the one to cook the meal.

That's when it happened.

William placed both hands on either of Ronald's hips, then leaned in, his breath sending chills down Ronald's neck as his lips brushed against Ronald's ear. "No, Ronald. Thank_ you."_ He suddenly licked Ronald's ear, then pulled back, soon pressing a heated kiss to the blond's lips. Ronald had melted against his touch, green eyes fluttering closed as he shakily tried to kiss back. William's hands slid sensually up his body, cupped his face and tilted his head up, then suddenly deepened the kiss with his tongue, plundering Ronald's mouth. "Mmmnnn..."

Ronald's eyes slowly opened again, but they snapped shut as he met his boss's piercing, spring-green gaze. He kissed back clumsily, wanting to impress his boss, but soon falling victim to William's dominanceonce again. The older male seemed to completely overpower him, his lips and tongue working in ways Ronald couldn't have even dreamed they could.

The kiss was broken with a gasp from Ronald, the urge to breathe having overcome him - overcome the power of that amazing daydream. He looked at his boss with dazed eyes, then stumbled back, landing on the ground. The next thing he knew, the door to William's apartment had been shut in his face, and that it was, in fact, _not_ a daydream.

That was the start of it all.

From then on, William had just given small acknowledgements to the kiss that had happened, a nod here or a tap on the shoulder there being the only indication that he remembered what had taken place that night. Sometimes he'd head into Ronald's office, give him a small smile, and then walk away again, leaving Ronald stunned and rather flustered. But just when things were starting to seem like they'd calm down, at last, it all happened again.

"Ronald, come to my house after hours. I want to see what it's like when you taste food you haven't cooked."

That night, William was the one to cook dinner, and that was also the night that Ronald initiated the kiss between them, thus furthering their strange relationship. This kiss was slow and tender, and for reasons the blond couldn't begin to understand, his boss took no control of it, instead letting the blond kiss him this time.

It was days later that, finally, Ronald asked William if they were lovers, to which William had cocked an eyebrow and said rather bluntly, "What else could we be?"

From that moment on, Ronald became braver. He didn't hesitate to peck William on the cheek after hours, or even hug him on occasion. He couldn't contain himself anymore. The one he'd loved for years had suddenly decided that they would be lovers... It made him extremely happy. The mere thought... he was now William's boyfriend. He was the loyal dog that would stay by its master's side forever and ever... happily barking and wagging his tail at the slightest suggestion of a reward.

And now they lay in the same bed, clothed (keep it clean!), but nonetheless content. "I love you," Ronald would murmur every so often, content just to see William's response - a somehow stoic blush and the occasional quiet mumble of 'I love you, too.'

Their relationship was odd; though it was like lovers, it was still undeniably a bit distant. Even so, Ronald loved every moment, and he helped William run Spear's Spectacles just like any good boyfriend would. He was a wonderful asset to William, and the best part was that he knew it. He was special, he was appreciated, he wasn't being picked on anymore, because he was the best thing that ever happened to William T. Spears... and he knew it so well.

Knowing that he was important to his lover... that was best thing that had ever happened to him.

**-End Chapter**

* * *

:P Yay, finished a chapter~ :3

Please review~! On summer break at last! :D


	21. Eternity: Comfortable

**Everlasting Wishes**

**Arc 3: Eternity**

Chapter 2: Comfortable

* * *

_~Claude Faustus~_

_"Miss Grell!" Claude called, running up to the redhead, smiling as Grell turned to face him. "Here. I thought this would look nice in your hair," he whispered, reaching out and placing a sweetbriar flower in the redhead's hair. "So beautiful, just like you," the ravenette whispered, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to the redhead's lips._

_"Oh, darling, you spoil me," Grell murmured with a shy smile, lacing his arms around the ravenette's neck. Claude smiled and wrapped his own arms around Grell's waist, kissing him again. He couldn't get enough. The younger man's lips felt like flower petals, and tasted like honey. Though until he'd met Grell he hadn't kissed anyone before, when he indulged in such things with the fiery redhead, it set his soul on fire. Grell drove him insane, made him filled with lust and need and-_

_**Beep beep beep?**_

Claude groaned, flipping off the alarm beside his bed and blinking himself awake. What a dream... As a matter of fact, it had been the same dream the ravenette had had for nine days in a row, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

Sliding out of bed, the young man started to get dressed, soon getting on his typical casual attire and heading into the dining room. "Morning," he said to Sebastian as he walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Claude," Sebastian returned with a smile. "I hear you and miss Grell are doing quite well?"

"Huh?"

"Please. Everyone heard that phone call you got at three in the morning," Sebastian chuckled. "'Oh, Claude, it's the most horrible thing ever! I can't find my glasses! Can you come over and help me look for them, pretty please?' He was screaming!"

"Psh, don't make fun," Claude protested. "Grell was just startled, and I helped him find them over the phone..."

"Heh, who needs their glasses at three in the morning?" Sebastian asked.

"Grell said he was up late reading a romance novel," the ravenette replied with a faint smile. "Nevermind that, though. He's coming over today, and I want you to have your 'butler aesthetic' all ready for him."

Sebastian smiled and rolled his eyes. "It's the fifth time he's come over, Claude. It's really not that big a deal. And for the record, red really isn't your color."

Claude looked down at the bright red dress shirt he was wearing, then shrugged. "I like it."

"You're one in a million, Claude. Better go change," Sebastian replied. "I say you should wear a darker, blood-red coat if that's how you want to go. The bright red is too out of place on you."

"But-"

"You're too masculine for it, Claude. Go change," the younger male repeated, and Claude pouted slightly, before heading away. As he returned to his room and began to change, he thought back. It had been two weeks since he'd given Grell his phone number, and the two were doing good, to say the least. They took walks together at every chance, went out to eat at Pluto's often, and Grell visited the orphanage every so often as well.

Claude smiled, thinking back to Grell's first visit to the orphanage.

It had been a bright, sunny morning. The kids were all getting ready to _eat breakfast, when there was a knock at the main door. Claude had reluctantly left his warm, fresh meal and gone to get it, and been beyond surprised to find Grell at his door._

_"Oh, Claude, it's terrible!" Grell had cried, a hand moving up and laying itself over the red-haired male's forehead, putting him in a dramtic, 'I'm about to faint!' pose. "My car broke down right here in the middle of no where!"_

_"Um. Miss Grell, you told me you don't have a car," Claude pointed out. "You have a bicycle, don't you?"_

_Pausing, Grell pouted at Claude a bit, before saying, "Oh, Claude, it's terrible! My bicycle broke down right here in the middle of no where!"_

_"Bicycles don't break down... plus this isn't 'no where,' it's just the west side of town-"_

_"Do I smell bacon?" the redhead gasped suddenly, shoving past Claude and walking into the dining room. "Oh my, so many children!" he said, eyes wide and mouth agape. "My, Claude, you must be a very busy man to have so many...," he growled in a seductive voice, grabbing Claude by the tie and yanking him close. "I enjoy a man who gets all hot and sweaty because he likes to work fast and hard..." He then completely abandoned the ravenette for his empty plate, inviting himself to sit and the table and saying, "Just pretend I'm not here, everyone! I'm here for the food!"_

_"... Claude? Is this your girlfriend, I thought to myself?" Drocell asked, cocking his head in a robotic way._

_"Uh... this is Grell," Claude admitted, moving to where the redhead was eating and leaning on the back of his chair. "I'd thought the introduction would be a bit more formal, but yes, this is him."_

_"Hi Grell!" Alois said with a wave, and Grell looked up from Claude's plate, soon waving back, cheeks plump with food and an awkward smile on his face._

_"Hi 'lois," the redhead mumbled._

_Suddenly, Shakespeare flew to the table, landing in front of Grell, soon saying, "'Tis the east, 'tis the east! And Juliet is il sole!"_

_"... Um... thank you!" Grell said. "You're a very flattering bird!"_

_Sebastian grinned and held out his arm. "Shakespeare, I have a few peanuts over here!"_

_"Food!" the bird squawked, hopping over to the other male and moving on to his arm, soon starting to eat the offered peanuts._

_"Oh, just like a man. His heart is in his stomach!" Grell huffed with a grin, then looked back at Claude, holding out a piece of bacon towards him. "You're running a regular circus here, Claude," he said with a giggle. His stomach growling, the older male moved to accept the offered piece, when Grell suddenly pulled it away again, eating it himself with a cocky smirk. The older male pouted a bit._

_"Miss Grell, so playful today," he hummed, moving to start braiding the reaper's hair._

_"Heehee~ I'm a bit riled up, I must confess," Grell giggled. "I went out to Pluto's with Undertaker yesterday, and that silly old man threw his bowl of soup at our waitor! Completely ruined that blasted Aleister's clothes, and made him shriek, too! It was glorious!"_

_"It's about time that man had what was coming to him," Claude chuckled, before asking, "He's all right, though? I can imagine Undertaker got in a whole amount of trouble for throwing hot soup-"_

_"Well that was precisely it, darling! Apparently the soup wasn't hot at all, so Undertaker complained, and didn't throw the bowl until Aleister said he was being crazy. So Undertaker goes, 'This isn't crazy, **this **is crazy!' then chucks the bowl right at him! You know, that man has pretty decent aim for-" He fell quiet. "Well..."_

_Claude nodded. "For a blind man?"_

_"You knew?" Grell asked._

_The ravenette shrugged. "He told Alois because Alois started picking on him for being old. Alois told me." Grell gave Alois a reprimanding look, but the blond simply giggled, dismissing the silent scolding._

_"So, Grell," Claude spoke up again. He soon started introducing each of the children, as well as the workers, and Grell soon knew the names of a lot of the residents of the orphanage._

_Humming, Grell stood, and he soon moved to Sebastian and Ciel, tapping his lip. "How old are you, Ciel?"_

_"'Bout eighteen," Ciel mumbled._

_"And you, Bassy?"_

_"Uh... same as Ciel," Sebastian murmured._

_"Stand up, you both~!" Grell said. The two did so, and Grell burst into laughter. "Ciel, you're so short!" he cackled._

_"No, miss. It is not my Lord who is short, but I who is tall," Sebastian said before Ciel could get upset. "Then again, Ciel did need a butler who could reach the cabinets." Scowling, Ciel sucker-punched Sebastian in the stomach, and the butler groaned, leaning over to rub the sore area._

_"They're boyfriends, too," Alois commented, and Grell gave a soft giggle._

_"That's so cute!" he squealed, hugging Ciel and Sebastian, both teens trying to push him away almost immediately. "Oh, you two are lucky," Grell said in a wistful voice. "To have found love at such a young age... I wasn't so fortunate, you know!" He let go of the two, then turned around, giving a small huff of annoyance and flipping his hair. Claude had learned at that point that that was the redhead's 'discreet' way of asking for attention. With a smile, the older male walked over, soon placing his hands on Grell's shoulders, softly rubbing them._

_I'm certain you'll find love soon enough. You're very kind and beautiful. Any man would want you. If you're particularly into men, I mean."_

_Grell sent him a small glance. "Such a silly boy you are, Claude. As if you don't already know such a thing." He playfully bumped his hips against Claude's, then turned around and gave him a brief hug. "But you know I can't..."_

_"I know, Grell. I'll accept it," Claude whispered. "You don't need to love me if it's not me you desire."_

_"Well, it's not..." Grell trailed off, glancing up to meet Claude's eyes, before suddenly pulling away. "Show me around the orphanage!" he'd demanded, and that had been the end of that._

But now, two weeks later, Claude knew Grell was more comfortable, and the redhead flirted with him more openly, though he hadn't lifted the barrier of 'I won't love you,' making the ravenette the slightest bit desperate. The word didn't seem right even as Claude considered it changing back into his typical dark jeans and white shirt, slipping on his black coat with a frown. But it was true, wasn't it? He flirted back now, he tried to wear clothing Grell would appreciate, he even played dolls with the redhead once because Grell had told him it was something he'd never gotten to do as a child.

Yes. Whether he'd admit it or not, he was desperate.

Heading back into the kitchen, Claude found that Sebastian had already finished breakfast for everyone and was setting plates on the table. "Seb? Damn, you're too good. The day we have you as a worker is the day this orphanage becomes a palace," Claude sighed, walking to the table. "It smells delightful."

"Thank you, sir," Sebastian said with a charming smile.

"No, really, Seb, this is getting on my nerves," Claude chuckled, ruffling the other male's hair. "You're too perfect."

"Maybe I should confide my flaw in you, then?" Sebastian replied, giving a small grin, before leaning up, and whispering something into Claude's ear. The older male's face turned completely red, and he blinked a couple times, completely stunned.

"... All right, Seb...," he mumbled, and the other chuckled, soon sitting down at the table. Still disturbed, Claude left to wake everyone up.

When Grell arrived, it was with his usual pep. He rang the doorbell enough times for everyone to think 'shave and a haircut, two bits,' then knocked vigorously until Claude answered the door.

"Hello darling!" Grell cried, flinging himself at Claude and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, before running away, soon scooping Alois up in his arms and twirling him around. "And how are _you_~ my little angel?"

"Hehehe~ I'm absolutely fine, Grell!" Alois laughed, hugging Grell tight. "How can you pick me up like this? Damn, you're so strong!"

"I'm a lady, but I'm certainly not a delicate one," Grell replied with a wink as he set the blond down, before saying, "Did you finish that painting we were talking about?"

"Yeah! Come here!" Alois said happily, pulling the redhead out of Claude's sight.

Smiling slightly, the older male moved to a couch and sat down, sighing as he did so. It was often like this - Grell came over for Alois, not Claude. The two were like mother and son - inseperable, and though it amused Claude, he couldn't help but feel a bit abandoned. As Drocell sat down beside him, the older male mumbled, "Grell's ignoring me."

"Not true, Mr. Faustus," Drocell whispered. "He's just scared of being hurt. I think you two have a good level of trust."

Claude glanced down, thinking. It was true that Grell had shared a lot with him over the past two weeks. The red-haired male had told him of his broken past, of his aching memories, and more than once, Claude had comforted Grell and lended his shoulder to cry on. He knew that Grell and Alois were the same, and he knew Grell was attracted to males - he'd be blind (no offense to Undertaker) not to see that by now.

Grell was kind and beautiful, and the ravenette still couldn't believe how many people had turned Grell away and hurt him. It was disappointing to know how poor mankind truly was when it came to thinking outside of the social ladder's little box.

But there had been a lot more homosexual relationships developing in town - everyone was noticing. Why was it always Grell that they singled out?

_What made him different?_

**-End Chapter**

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*wipes at forehead* Okay! Chapter done! XD

So good news and bad news. I'm starting to think I won't reach 100,000 words with this story, particularly because my notes for each chapter are a bit...unrealistic. D: I really didn't have much on this chapter, and a lot of it felt forced, so I'm going to drop that goal and be happy with what I get. :) So. Chapters will be shorter, but they'll definitely be faster. I might be able to end this a lot sooner, which is the new goal. X'D

Please Review!


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